Time, Death & Scar Tissue
by psyche b. mused
Summary: Everyone can be surprised, even LaCroix. This will be a long story and my first in the Forever Knight section, reviews are appreciated. UPDATED
1. By The Pricking of My Thumbs

_A Few Notes: I do not own Lucien LaCroix._

_All other characters and locations are my own creations unless otherwise noted at the beginning of the chapter._

_The story takes place after Last Knight, and familiar character have gone their separate ways._

_This will be a long story, some may think the characterization is wrong, but I suppose I tried to explore another facet. All feedback, positive or negative, is welcome and appreciated._

_psyche b._

Time, Death & Scar Tissue

by psyche b. mused

1. By The Pricking of My Thumbs…

"_God_ Kat! You could switch clothes with a hooker and still look like a choir girl." Corey said, rolling her eyes at her best friend Kathryn's choice of outfit.

"Really?" Kathryn glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Well then you should be ashamed to be seen with me. I'll stay home." She was pretty sure that she wasn't going to get out of it that easily. Actually, she thought that she looked rather good in the short black dress. It moved nicely above her knees and hugged all the right curves. Of course the hem and neckline were more generous than Corey's leather ensemble, but it did set off her pale skin nicely.

"Oh no. You said you were going and you are. When was the last time you got out of here and had some fun?" Corey said, taking the pearls from Kathryn's hands before she could fasten them. She clucked her tongue and started looking through her friend's jewelry.

"What's wrong with those?" Kathryn said, taking the double strand back and putting them in their own box.

"Too June Cleaver. And you didn't answer me, when was the last time you went out and had fun?"

"Last month the symphony was playing Mahler -" Corey groaned.

"I mean _normal_ fun." She said, giving up on Kathryn's jewelry and looking through her purse.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting I'm a mutant. Do you think that this 'Something Wicked' place could supply me with a drool bucket or should I bring my own?" Kathryn was used to Corey's jabs at her reclusive nature and by now she had a come-back for just about every one of them. She adjusted a few tendrils of deep auburn hair to frame her face better and Corey fastened a choker of black crystals around her neck. Kathryn touched the beads appreciatively and decided to ask where Corey got them before she had to return them.

"You know that isn't what I meant. Besides, think of your new book. That nightclub you wrote is just _not_ believable. You research everything else to the limit, why not this?"

"Two very good reasons. First I don't think there's going to be a nightclub in the next book, the idea seemed to run its course in the first couple pages. And second, because the history section of the library is usually deserted, and even when it's not no one wonders why I'm sitting alone, no one comes over with some cheesy pick up line, and I don't have to hear the words 'hey, aren't you...'." Kathryn did a little turn in front of Corey, showing off the finished product.

"I guess you don't look too bad." Corey said with a wry little smile. "And you're just making excuses. Besides, with your ability to read people it seems like you would be able to find the best guys right off and not have to sift through the duds like the rest of us."

"You make it sound magical. It's just taking note of mannerisms and body language and _maybe _a bit of intuition tossed into the mix." Kathryn stepped into her black heels, again they were more conservative than the stilettos Corey balanced on, but they looked good with the dress.

"Body language my foot," Kathryn shot her a look and Corey looked away. "I know you hate it when I call you psychic, so I won't. But that doesn't stop me from thinking it."

"Well whatever you like to call it, big clamorous groups tend to overwhelm my radar." Kathryn took a look through her purse to make sure that she had everything for the evening, adding a notebook and a few pens.

"Hey, you can't dance and write at the same time." Corey said, picking up her jacket.

"Hey, I can't dance at all unless we're talking about a waltz." Kathryn pulled her knee-length charcoal gray cloak around her shoulders, closed the hidden buttons and fastened the heavy silver clasp at her throat. "Besides, getting a bit of the atmosphere might not be a bad idea and for that I need notes."

"Why do you have to wear that? You look like someone out of an old movie." Corey looked frustrated again.

"Because it's warm and it covers the hump on my back so nicely. People won't even know that you've taken pity on Quasimodo's twin sister and helped her sneak out of the bell tower for the evening." Kathryn checked the mirror again and decided against the hood. Her hair was actually doing what she wanted this evening and she didn't want to give it a reason to rebel.

"Do you talk to guys like this?" Corey laughed as the two women started out into the chilly night.

"Not unless they say something to inspire me. So where did you hear about this place anyway? 'Something Wicked' sounds like a line out of Poe." Kathryn brushed the layer of receipts and gum wrappers off the seat and got in Corey's car. She would have preferred to drive her own vehicle, but Corey's skill at giving directions left quite a lot to be desired. It was easier to just put up with the mess.

"_Everything _reminds you of something out of Poe." She rolled her eyes.

"No it doesn't, this just happens to be obvious." Kathryn laughed. "Besides, I write Horror, or so they say. I'm supposed to be dark and mysterious. So who told you about the place?"

She had never liked the Horror genre for her stories. She supposed some people could see them that way, she had just never accepted the idea herself.

"Marco." Corey said, rolling the 'r' seductively.

"Now was he the one before last, or the one before that?" Kathryn settled the wool of the cloak around herself and out of Corey's way and fastened her seat belt.

"Very funny." She pulled away from the curb with a lurch.


	2. Something Wicked This Way Comes

2. …Something Wicked This Way Comes

The noise of the club and crush of people overwhelmed Kathryn's senses immediately and she wanted nothing more than to run back out the same way she came in. To do so though would have meant wrenching her arm away from Corey, who was after all, only trying to help. It was more than the crowd and nose though, there was an undercurrent of something Kathryn couldn't quite identify. It unsettled her, but she bushed it aside in favor of more concrete thoughts. Kathryn found she needed the stability of those solid thoughts to keep her knees from shaking. As her eyes adjusted to the half-light she could see that there was potential here for a meeting place in one of her books, of course both characters would have to be deaf.

Corey pushed a glass of white wine into one of Kathryn's hands and her purse and jacket into the other arm before promptly disappearing into the crowd of revelers. For a long moment she thought about leaving Corey to fend for herself, but the guilty feelings eventually invaded. She cursed under her breath and looked around with her newly adjusted eyes. Spotting a small, empty booth in a less populated corner of the room she settled herself and thanked goodness that the high sides of the booth filtered out a good bit of the noise of the music.

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, filtering out the flood of impression she was getting from her view of the crowd in front of her, gradually shutting them off like taps until she had quiet inside her own head again, even if the world around her was full of noise. She sipped the wine and took out her notebook and began to sketch the scene in words, much as an impressionist would use quick, loose brush strokes to capture a moment in time.

_'semi-industrial semi-darkness shattered by strobing lights that stab and retreat like a knife rending flesh...dancers and revelers appear stilted...human stop-motion animation played out live before the eyes of the viewer...people clustered together gyrating to different rhythms, as if ignoring the music in favor of the heartbeats of their partners...'_

Kathryn's pen flew across the page, recording, sights, sounds, smells, the look of the people, their gestures, and the way their bodies moved when they interacted with friends and with strangers. She sipped the wine again and turned the page. From the silent spot in her mind she drew Paul Viscard, her main character into this room at this moment. Even if she didn't think she was going to use a place like this Kathryn wasn't about to waste the opportunity to get something down on paper. She recorded what his impression of the scene might be. What he liked about the atmosphere and what he disliked about it, who he might be drawn to and why.

"Reporter?" A cultured voice asked from above her. A tall, elegantly dressed, man stood looking down at her. There was a mild note of curiosity in his voice, but there was the well hidden edge of disapproval as well. Kathryn was shocked that she hadn't seen him or at least felt she was being observed. She wondered how long he had been standing there and if he had been able to read anything she had written. She tried not to close the notebook too quickly and set off suspicions.

"No, abandoned by the friend I came with. And you?" She smiled and hoped she sounded casual instead of terrified. She gestured for him to sit and slipped the notebook back into her bag. He sat and she realized how small the booth really was, or how he seemed to fill it, she couldn't be sure which.

"I'm the owner of this establishment. So you decided to write your correspondence while you wait for him or her?" Again, that well-veiled note of disapproval and with those icy blue eyes fixed on her Kathryn was glad that he couldn't see her knees shake under the table. 'Be clever, be charming' she told herself.

"Her, and not exactly. I'm a writer and since I was here, and unoccupied, I thought I might record a few impressions."

"You just happened to bring a notebook with you?" His eyes seemed to be boring into her and she used the full force of her will to keep from shivering.

"I feel like I'm missing something if I don't have it, kind of like I would expect a soldier would feel ill at ease without his weapon." She noticed the slightest quiver of one blond eyebrow; his eyes remained on her though.

"I see. And are you published?" He asked. Kathryn wondered how it was that she could hear him so well. There was the nagging itch of something that she should be picking up on against her subconscious. But, like a moth tapping against a pane of glass, it flitted away each time she tried to get a good look at what it was.

"Yes, but I'm sure that you wouldn't have read anything that I've written." Kathryn looked away and felt a blush color her cheeks. She had always been uncomfortable talking about her work. People she knew seemed to look at her differently when they found out exactly what she wrote. "I'm Kathryn Paige, by the way." She smiled and took a sip of the wine.

"Lucien LaCroix. And why are you so certain? My interests are quite varied." He was watching her carefully. Kathryn felt as if he was waiting for her to make a mistake of some kind.

"A pleasure to meet you, and I write silly little stories, no better than Penny Dreadfuls really. Besides, you didn't say you recognized my name, so I would have to assume that you've never read any of my work." Kathryn smiled and took note of her new companion's stillness. Men that Corey sent to keep her company usually fidgeted and acted like counting ceiling tiles was more interesting than actually listening to her. Even the ones that didn't were rarely so still.

"Penny Dreadfuls, and I thought those went out of fashion around the end of the nineteenth century." The slight edge of disapproval in his voice was either covered better or it was entirely replaced by curiosity for the moment.

"Well, my missing friend always says I can never quite manage to live in the present." Kathryn managed a small laugh that was cut short by the intrusion of a stranger into the booth. He was obviously drunk and leaning in so close to Kathryn that she retreated closer to her new acquaintance, her back almost pressed against him.

"Hey," The new arrival said. "You're that writer, Anna Perenna! I am such a _huge_ fan! The way you write it's like you can almost _taste _the blood and stuff!"

"I'm sorry, but you must have the wrong person, I do get that a lot though." Kathryn's response was practiced but her heart was fluttering in her chest.

"Awww, c'mon, you look just like her!" He said, his fist hitting the table and rattling its contents. Kathryn grabbed her glass to steady it.

"I've heard that before," Kathryn said, still managing to keep the note of panic out of her voice. "But I assure you, I'm not her."

"So what's your name then?" He was uncertain now and looking uneasily at Kathryn's companion. For once, she was very glad that she wasn't alone.

"Annabel Lee." She answered without a moment's hesitation and a confident smile. That seemed to be what the young man needed. He backed away again.

"Oh. You sure do look like her though." He walked away again and after he left Kathryn moved away from her companion.

"Please excuse me," she said, finding herself rather embarrassed. "I don't usually crawl into the laps of men I've just met."

"Think nothing of it, though you've piqued my curiosity. Annabel Lee?" He looked slightly amused and Kathryn relaxed.

"Well, considering I'm in a place called Something Wicked I thought Lenore would be entirely too obvious." She said with a small laugh, and his lips curled into a little smile. "Besides, it's my favorite Poe poem. So, I've been talking much more than I should. Tell me about you?" She sipped her wine.

"That could take a very long time, longer than you have." His stare intensified and Kathryn felt what she cloud only describe as a pressure against the quiet part of her mind. It was slight at first, but grew insistent quickly, the hand on her wine glass trembled as he held the small shell of quiet around herself. The pressure became almost painful, and then it was gone, as if it never existed. She thought she saw his eyes widen slightly and she clasped her still shaking hands in her lap. "Besides, I think you might be a much more interesting creature than I am."

"Well that makes me sound positively unusual." Kathryn laughed softly and tried to forget her nerves. "I'm just someone who usually blends into the wallpaper. In fact, I don't remember the last time I was joined by-"

"You gotta be her!" The young man was back, but this time he had a friend with dangerously spiked hair do the talking. He was even more emphatic and he was jabbing his finger at her. This time, Kathryn didn't retreat.

"Look, I'm sure that this person would be very flattered, but I'm not her, so-"

"I have the first edition of 'Unrepentant', you know, the one with your _picture_ on it? It's you!" Kathryn could feel her heart beginning to pound in her ears. If there had been a way out she would have run.

"I'm sure you have this book, and maybe I bear a passing resemblance to the author but I am not her!" Kathryn was trying to sound just as emphatic, but she thought she caught a note of panic in her own voice.

"Oh come _on_! I know you're some kind of whack-job hermit but all we want is a fuckin' autograph!" Kathryn was as close to full panic as she had been in a long time, but she remained still. Her eyes were fixed on the two young men.

It seemed as though her companion sensed her upset because he moved forward, on arm on the back of the booth, the other on the table, providing a kind a shelter for Kathryn and fixing his eyes on the two aggressive young men. She got the feeling that he was doing more than staring, though what that more was she couldn't say.

"The lady says that she is not this person that you are looking for." His tone was calm but commanding. The two stood staring at him and Kathryn tried not to shiver. "You will accept that and leave her alone, after you apologize."

Both of them mumbled 'sorry' and walked away, both looking slightly confused. Her companion retreated as they did.

"Thank you, Mr. LaCroix. I don't know what you did, but it worked." There was a slight tremor in Kathryn's hand as she sipped her wine. He was watching her closely.

"So, what do you write? Specifically." Kathryn could tell that the quiet tone of command made it less a question and more of an order. Her mind spun through answers that she could live with.

"Some people call it historical fiction interspersed with moments of modern reflection. Some say that I blend the past and present of my characters to form one seamless tapestry. It's all in your viewpoint I suppose."

"Hardly the stuff of Penny Dreadfuls." He countered.

"That depends on your viewpoint too." She responded, just as quickly. Her deep brown eyes fixed on his cool blue ones for a challenging moment, and then she lowered them again. He watched her appraisingly and Kathryn thought she saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. She wasn't sure if she liked that or not.

"Perhaps it does. But whatever one's point of view, you are this Anna Perenna they're so anxious to meet." It was a statement and that flustered Kathryn a bit.

"Please, not so loud." She said as firmly as she dared, looking to see if anyone heard him. "I'm Kathryn Paige. I just happened to make the mistake of excelling at a useless course of study in college and have had to rely on a secondary skill that others seem to appreciate."

"Hey Kat, who's you're friend?" Corey said, pushing into the small booth, catching her breath and drinking something that looked like a rum and coke. Kathryn had to fight the urge to push her back out again.

"Lucien LaCroix, this is Corrina James." Kathryn said and was rewarded with an icy stare from Corey.

"I'm not a hundred yet you know." She turned to him and smiled. "Call me Corey."

"A pleasure to meet you." He said smoothly, the slight note of annoyance Kathryn detected would be lost on Corey.

"Tell me you haven't been sitting here this whole time!" Corey said to Kathryn.

"You brought me here to observe. Besides, I've been having a very interesting conversation with Mr. LaCroix." Corey rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Broth-ther Kat, this ain't 1492. I'm gonna dance some more, try not to bore the guy to death." She slipped out into the crowd and was gone again. Kathryn moved away again.

"She's quite different from you, isn't she?" He said simply.

"The best way that I can describe it is to say that she is the sun and I am the moon. When she comes into the room just about everyone falls into her gravity and I'm lucky to be allowed to distantly orbit one of her lesser satellites. But if it weren't for her I would probably live my life between my house for writing and the history section of the library for researching my writing. Maybe the hermit comment wasn't so far from the truth." Kathryn laughed softly, watching his face.

"Then history is your "useless interest"?" He had moved slightly closer, obviously interested.

"No but it's a part of it. The hermit part of the comment is bad enough to admit to, I would rather not add the whack-job adjective to it." Kathryn wasn't sure why she felt free to tell this man anything, let alone why she cared what he thought. She _was_ tired of people looking at her like she had three heads and a tail when she told them though.

"Look around you Miss Paige," he said with a small gesture and a wry little smile. "Do you really think that anything you could possibly say would shock me?"

"No, I suppose not." Kathryn took a deep breath. "It sounds very pretentious, but I studied Latin. My professors said I had a great deal of skill with the language, but so much of any language is culture. I would probably be understandable, but not as competent as a ten year old native speaker, if one could be found." She noticed his brows lift slightly.

"Not a popular course of study in these modern times. What drew you to it?" His voice was guarded, but curious at the same time.

Kathryn laughed softly and shook her head a bit; relieved he hadn't looked at her as if she was some kind of lunatic.

"I wish I knew. The vestiges of a past life that I can't seem to either let go of or remember fully? Curiosity? A strange desire to be immersed in history? Desire to hide away in dusty libraries reading things few others want to? I really have no idea. I took one class because I had some time to fill in my schedule and I was hooked."

Kathryn noticed that the mood in the club had shifted from the fast, frenetic pace of early in the evening to a slower, more sensual vibe. Something about that disquieted Kathryn.

"And now you write and apparently hide from your fans. Rather an unusual position in an age when celebrity is sought after at almost any expense."

"I wasn't looking for fame. 'Unrepentant' started as a way to win a bet. Corey was the one who kept prodding me to write more and then my grandmother read it and sent it to a publisher without me knowing about it. I got a phone call one day that said they were so excited to be working with me. I didn't think it was that good frankly." Kathryn scanned the dwindling crowd for Corey, the fact that she couldn't find her unsettled Kathryn.

"Something wrong?" A cool fingertip lightly grazed the back of her hand, sharpening Kathryn's focus immediately.

"No. Yes. I don't know. Excuse me for a moment please." Kathryn saw him nod slightly and she slid out of the booth, getting a wider view of the room and wondering why she had felt compelled to wait for his permission. She began to cross the room quickly, scanning the velvety shadows for Corey. Finally, she spotted her in a dim corner with a dangerous looking young man. He was the kind that Kathryn wouldn't go near, but that Corey seemed drawn to magnetically. They were pressed close together so her view wasn't as good as it could have been, but Kathryn could tell there was something not quite right.

"Corey." She said firmly when she got close enough to be heard clearly, focusing intently on getting her friend's attention. "Corey." She said again, her eyes fixed on Corey's face.

"My friend Kat," she said with a dreamy smile. Her companion's look was far from friendly. Kathryn felt that same uncomfortable pressure against her mind again, but it was much weaker and this time she pressed back against it actively. "You know, my friend Kat writes stories _and_ she talks Latin. Isn't that weird?" Corey said to her companion. Kathryn could see that she was drunk, but she had seen Corey in that state more than once and this time there was something different about it.

"Well, if she understands English, tell her you're busy." He nuzzled Corey's neck and drew a deep moan from her.

"What he said Kitty Kat." Corey pressed against him.

"Corey it's late, we need to go." Kathryn said, undeterred by the thinly veiled sense of threat she got from the young man as he turned on her. It looked as if he were about to say something when he stopped.

"I believe the ladies wish to end the evening," Kathryn's blond companion said to the young man. She hadn't heard him approach, nor had she realized exactly how tall he was. Of course even in heels she was shorter than most people. The pressure against her mind eased immediately and she took a deep breath. "Perhaps you should rely on your good manners and say goodnight." Something seemed to pass between the two men and the younger one stalked off unhappily after a moment's indecision.

Kathryn wasted no time in leading a confused and protesting Corey back to their jackets. She helped Corey on with hers in a practiced manner, as if this was the thousandth time it had happened.

"It's still early though." Corey pouted and sat where Kathryn indicated.

"I know, but I might turn into a pumpkin if I'm out too late." She spoke to Corey as she would to a child who was being obstinate and began looking for her cloak. The last thing she needed was to have to try and go home in that ridiculous dress without it.

"Miss Paige." Her companion said, holding it up for her, a small smile on his lips.

"Thank you," she turned and allowed him to wrap the fabric around her shoulders, holding it there while she secured the silver clasp.

"We should continue our conversation." He said close to her ear. The sensation of his breath against her skin made her shiver slightly.

"I'd like that." Kathryn reached into her bag and got a cream-colored card out of a silver case. "Please, call anytime." She smiled and held his eyes for what seemed like only seconds before Corey broke the moment.

"You know, Kat's a psychic." Corey said to Kathryn's companion in a very matter of fact way. Kathryn felt herself turn deep red.

"Now you know that isn't true." She said, turning away quickly to hide her embarrassment. "Come on, before you start imagining pink elephants." Kathryn reached to help Corey up, but Corey pulled her arm away.

"I can get up by myself. Why do you wear that old thing?" She frowned, looking at Kathryn's cloak. Kathryn took her friend by the elbow and started leading her toward the door.

"Because I haven't quite managed to drag myself out of the dark ages yet." Kathryn replied without giving the answer a second thought.

---------------------------------------------------------

LaCroix sat with his fingers templed against his lips. The evening was, in a word, surprising. In fact, he had to admit to himself that it had been quite some time since a mortal had surprised him so much.

He had heard of her as Anna Perenna, the author of vampire fiction who seemed to be dancing too close to the edges of his community for someone's comfort. Whoever it was had left 'Unrepentant' at the club for him. He skimmed it quickly, until he got to one of her historical reminiscences. It drew him in with its rich attention to detail that made it very easy for the reader to believe that they were listening to another reminisce. After actually reading the whole book and the two that followed it he agreed that she had wandered very close to the border. He had not had time to make plans for her elimination before he saw her being dragged into the club by that vulgar friend of hers, looking as if she had just awakened to find herself on the other side of the world.

He'd had no idea what to expect really. The photo on the dust jacket revealed her face only in half-light and the biography was short and worded not to reveal much of anything. Her writing style and the story she told made him think that he was looking for someone smart but brash. Kathryn Paige was certainly smart, and while she put up a convincing front of fearlessness she was anything but brash. He could see now why the historical elements of the book had such an exotic passion, the woman herself seemed as though she would be at home in another time, and probably had been at some point.

He had been willing to ignore all of that, until she displayed a most remarkable ability to resist his hypnotic skills. Of course he could have pressed further, but that would have caused her physical pain. He wasn't above doing that but the club had been too full of uninitiated eyes to risk it. He had met many who were resisters, but as he searched his long memory he couldn't think of one who had been so completely unaware of what they were doing.

He looked at the card she had given him. Just her name and phone number in raised italic script. Many gave out business cards, but this was more reminiscent of a calling card from the 19th century in some ways. A bit of her scent still clung to it, and closed his eyes and inhaled. Sweet vanilla and flowers filled his senses. After a moment he set the card aside, it didn't contain the information that he wanted. Finding her address should be a fairly simple task, but it was one that could wait until tomorrow night.

There was something vaguely familiar about her and it played on his mind. He could afford to indulge his curiosity a bit.


	3. The Hunter and the Hunted

The Hunter and the Hunted

Kathryn found herself thinking about Lucien LaCroix often in the next couple of days, more than she thought was entirely logical for someone she had just met. It was a nice conversation, even if it had been plagued by interruptions. Leaving a card wasn't something she would have done at all if he hadn't seemed interested. The number was actually her number. That was a rare thing for her to give out, but he seemed to know who she was anyway and she didn't get the impression that he would be sharing that knowledge with anyone. She couldn't remember the last time that she was so anxious for the phone to ring. At least this was movie night. Corey would be over soon with some kind of take-out and DVDs of new releases she thought Kathryn just _had_ to see. Kathryn liked the companionship in the evening, but the movies she could have done without.

Corey, who couldn't remember much of anything after their arrival, had been shocked that Kathryn had not only met someone, but that she wanted to see him again. She claimed Kathryn had never had a date that wasn't set up by someone else, and those all ended badly. That wasn't completely accurate, but the fact was that one date was usually her limit. There had been two exceptions, both times Kathryn had been the one to sever the association. She accepted that she wasn't a social butterfly, and she consoled herself by saying that twenty-three was hardly an old maid anymore.

"He call yet?" Corey asked over General Tso's chicken. Just the question made her think about it all over again.

"No, and I really don't think he will." Kathryn said, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

"So, you call him." Corey grabbed the phone book and started flipping the pages. "What did you say his name was? I know it was something weird. It started with an "L" didn't it?"

"It does. And he's unlisted, I already checked." Kathryn said with a small smile.

"Well the club has to be-"

"Nope. Checked that too." Corey laughed and set the book aside.

"I'm impressed. You must have really liked this guy." Corey actually looked a bit shocked as she sat down again.

"It was a really nice time. At least I didn't feel like I was boring him to tears. That's a plus." Kathryn laughed a little and spooned some more pork fried rice out of the paper carton.

"Then we should go back. You can be on the hunt for once."

Kathryn laughed out loud.

"I don't think I'm much of a hunter. Besides, nothing is clicking with the new book. Everything I start on seems to die after a few paragraphs."

The knock at the door startled both women. Kathryn's house stood in a quiet neighborhood of mostly elderly people. While she knew and was friendly with most of her neighbors, no one usually dropped by after nine at night. Kathryn slipped a paring knife into her sweater pocket and opened the door only as far as the security chain would allow.

"Miss Paige?" The clean-cut young man on her porch asked.

"Who's asking?" She replied.

"Just a messenger." He smiled benignly and handed her an ivory colored envelope through the narrow opening, then disappeared into the darkness.

"Who was it?" Corey asked.

"A messenger, or so he said." Kathryn noticed that the paper of the envelope was unusually heavy and very fine. It reminded her of some that her great-grandmother had kept for 'letters of importance'. He name was written on the front in somewhat large, elegant script. The flap had been sealed with red wax.

"What kind of messenger works at nine at night?" Corey asked, looking a little nervous herself.

"I don't know, but let's find out." Kathryn said, getting ready to break the seal.

"You're not going to just _open_ it are you?" Corey said.

"Well I can't read it if it's still closed, now can I? Besides, it's too small to be a bomb."

"Maybe it's anthrax." Corey was looking at the envelope as if it were something menacing.

"Why would anyone want to send _me_ anthrax? Honestly, you have some of the strangest ideas sometimes." Kathryn broke the seal and took out two folded sheets of the same quality paper. Satisfied that there were no explosions to come, Corey looked over her shoulder.

"What is that? It's not English." She said.

"No, it's Latin." Kathryn flushed with pleasure and read slowly, absorbing the meaning of each line. Corey, on the other hand, was bouncing around the room, begging to know what it said, who it was from and all the other details that Kathryn wasn't ready to give. She kept her back to her excited friend until she got to the simple one initial signature.

"It's from him." She said finally, smiling a little.

"You told him your weird language thing?" Corey asked, looking horrified.

"I did, and apparently it didn't make him want to run for the hills." Kathryn was too happy to be offended.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense. What does it say?"

"He wants to meet again the day after tomorrow. I have to have a response ready for his messenger tomorrow night." There was a bit more, a few compliments and a line that she wasn't quite able to understand in her excitement, but Corey didn't really need to know all of that.

"Are you going? What are you going to wear? Wait a minute, where are you going? Why didn't he just call instead of making you wait all this time?" Kathryn waited for the flood of questions to end before trying to answer any of them.

"Yes, I'm going. I'll be wearing clothes. I'll be in a private part of the club and he didn't call because he thought writing would be more personal." Kathryn knew she was smiling and blushing but she was far too happy to care, she also wondered where he had gotten her address. Maybe she would ask him. "Movie time?"

"I'll come over and help you get ready." Corey said.

"At my age I think I can get dressed on my own." Kathryn laughed and slipped the two sheets carefully back into the envelope.

"Oh come on Kat! You know I always help you get ready when you go out." Kathryn could tell that she was just itching to be involved, but for right now she wanted to have a bit of privacy about all this.

"I know you do, but I think I should be able to dress myself for drinks with a man without someone giving me instructions. Please?" Kathryn gave her a sweet smile and Corey relented.

"Okay, but you have to tell me all the details when you get home."

"Deal." Kathryn smiled broadly. "Now, is it movie time?"

Kathryn had no real interest in the movies, but at least Corey would be quiet and she could begin to formulate her response to the letter. She had thought of simply responding in English but dismissed the idea immediately. He had taken the trouble to have a message sent to her in Latin, she would respond in kind and hope he would be able to get it translated in time, if he needed to.

The next evening the same messenger arrived around nine again, and she gave him her carefully prepared response. The stationery wasn't as fine and she had no wax seal, but it was not a bad effort.

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LaCroix smiled appreciatively as he read her response. He hadn't anticipated her responding in Latin, but then this one seemed to be full of surprises. She was more competent with the language than she gave herself credit for, but there were a few flaws. He wouldn't bring them up of course, she might wonder where and how he had acquired such an intimate knowledge. If there was anything he knew for certain already it was that this one had a quick mind. The evening would be enjoyed in a variety of ways, by him anyway.


	4. Invitations & Oppotunities

_Author's Note: I am not a Latin scholar, so the phrase used was obtained (with a bit of work) an Internet translation program. If anyone wants to correct me I always love to learn new things._

_psyche b._

4. Invitations and Opportunities

Kathryn thought that she must have tried on just about everything she owned before finally settling on a dark green skirt that was slightly longer than the black dress she wore the first night. It had a fullness that moved nicely around her legs. The cream-colored blouse draped gracefully around her neck, forming a modest "V". The double strand of pearls nestled against her throat and in the heels she had chosen she just about manage to be 5'4". If he was as tall as she remembered, she would still feel very short, but that was nothing new. She checked her hair one last time and was satisfied with the smooth, soft waves that fell nearly to the middle of her back. She was, in her own opinion, presentable.

A car arrived for her promptly at eight. Kathryn tried to be calm but her heart was pounding by the time she entered the club. He was waiting for her in the shadows of the small entry and Kathryn was glad the dim lighting hid her flush when he kissed her hand.

"So glad you accepted my invitation." He led her through the club itself with his hand in the small of her back.

"I thank you for extending it." He led her through a concealed door with a smile. Once it was closed behind them, the noise of the club was gone and the gentle strains of classical music floated through the air. The room was lit by the fire in the hearth and candles glowing from the corners of the room.

"Beethoven." Kathryn said after listening a moment. She felt herself relaxing.

"You appreciate classical music." He stood behind her, taking the cloak from her shoulders when she unfastened it. Kathryn realized that he was not only tall, but his shoulders were broad as well.

"Very much so, I suppose I'm still a little surprised when I find someone else who does." Kathryn stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning the book-lined walls with the appreciation of a keen-eyed scholar. She noticed even in the candlelight that many of the volumes were quite old.

"Please, sit." He indicated a large sofa in front of the fire. "Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine perhaps?"

"Yes, thank you." She sat, her legs crossed, still taking in the room. It was well-appointed and comfortable but understated. Masculine wood tones were underscored with touches of burgundy and golden brown leather.

"Perhaps you associate with the wrong people." Her fingers brushed his as he handed her the cool glass of white wine. He smiled slightly and sat close to her.

"You mean Corey." Kathryn's voice was matter of fact. She took a sip and set the glass on the side table.

"If I offend you Miss Paige - "

"No, and please, call me Kathryn."

"If you will call me Lucien." Kathryn smiled and nodded.

"Anyway," She continued. "I know what people think of Corey and I hope you know how sorry I am for running out like that the other night. I'm sure that she would be very embarrassed too, if she could remember anything." Kathryn found that she couldn't meet his eyes as she said it. She had apologized for something Corey said or did too many times to count, but this time seemed especially embarrassing.

"No need for apologies from you. She must have qualities that are not immediately apparent." He took a long drink of his red wine before setting it aside.

"I'll put it this way, I was one of those weird kids who skipped grades. Corey was the only high school senior who wanted to be friends with a fourteen year old. She has a good heart." She turned to face him a bit more, one foot drawn up under her. His arm rested along the back of the sofa.

"Strange, of the two of you I would have said that you were the eldest." His fingertips brushed against her hair and Kathryn shivered slightly, she looked down at her hands for a moment before lifting her eyes again.

"Everyone thinks that, I chalk it up to having an old soul. I wanted to thank you for the letter. You must have gone to a great deal of trouble for it."

"Not as much as you might think." He smiled slightly. "I'm a student of languages myself so I dusted off one I thought you might appreciate."

"And I do, though there was one thing I didn't quite understand. I'm sure it's because I haven't been studying as much as I should. Would you mind explaining it?" Kathryn knew she should have looked it up before now, but it at least filled a gap in conversation.

"Not at all, do you have it here with you?"

"Of course." Kathryn pulled the envelope out of her bag and drew out the sheets. She scanned the text quickly. "This line here. '_Spero vestri amica est potens futurus absque vos pro nox noctis.' _I'm sure that you're expressing a hope about the evening, but I'm not sure what it is."

He smiled a bit. "Perhaps it's not a very nice thing to say, but I said I hoped that your friend could be without you for the evening."

"Honest is sometimes more important than nice." She laughed softly and read the line to herself, committing it to memory.

"Not quite." He repeated the correct pronunciations. Kathryn watched his lips as he spoke, carefully repeating the words and intonations.

"Perfect." He said softly, with a small smile.

The sudden silence made Kathryn keenly aware of how close they were and how intensely he was looking at her. She looked away, fumbling with putting the pages away.

"Thank you, but I'm sure you didn't intend this to be a language lesson." She backed away again until she felt the arm of the sofa against her back, letting her hair fall over her face a little.

"I intended to get to know you better." He moved her hair from her face gently. "And thus far you have made me very curious to know more."

"That's very kind, but really, I'm so plain I don't know what more there could be to tell." Kathryn found herself wanting to lean into his touch, but she resisted the impulse.

"Maybe you could tell me why you hide from your fans." His fingers moved lightly through her hair.

"I never thought I would have fans. Even after the book was accepted I had no idea it would become so successful. Maybe that sounds naïve, but it's really what I believed. 'Unrepentant' was just kind of an experiment that took on a life of its own."

"Surely you knew you had talent." His voice was soft but the statement was powerful.

"I knew I had skill, but so do millions of other people. I was just lucky enough to be pushed into writing at the time that I was." Kathryn didn't like the word talent. She could turn a phrase, but she had learned how to do it and she was certain that most people could learn the same thing.

"Yes, you mentioned a bet."

"It sounds very Mary Shelley, I know."

"So you bet someone that you had the most frightening nightmare?" She could feel his intense curiosity about her work and she squirmed a little. His fingertip stroked her cheek lightly, sending pleasant shivers chasing after each other down her spine. She looked at him strangely for a moment.

"Funny, I never thought of 'Unrepentant' as nightmarish." Kathryn thought. "I guess you could look at it that way, but the point of the bet was for me to show a group of men with big mouths that just because a woman writes a story about an immortal person doesn't mean that it's automatically overly romantic fluff. Of course I made that statement before I had any ideas at all, so it was pure chance that I wrote anything." She laughed softly.

"I've read your book. All three of them in fact." He stated simply and Kathryn felt herself blush deeply. "How did you go from no ideas to 'Unrepentant'?"

"You actually read them?" Kathryn was surprised and a bit embarrassed. She felt a nervous restlessness under his close scrutiny and she walked over to the shelves to catch her breath. She stayed close to the pools of candlelight to better read the titles, she noticed there were a number of different languages represented. "You don't strike me as the kind who spends much time on fiction, especially my kind of silly ravings." She held her hands crossed over her tummy as much to calm herself as to keep from touching some of the tempting books.

"True, I tend to prefer the reality of history, or at least the reality as view through the distortions of morality, prejudice and imagination. This is only part of my collection." He stood behind her, his hands moving up her arms to rest softly on her shoulders. "Your first book was a gift. I hadn't intended to read it but I was flipping the pages and happened upon one of your character's historical reminiscences. You paint the past in bold, accurate strokes Kathryn. That left me quite impressed and wanting to read more, so I picked up the other two." His index fingers stroked either side of her neck. She shivered a bit against him.

"Thank you." She could feel the little quiver in her voice.

"So to hear you had no ideas is a bit surprising, and perhaps a bit hard to believe." His thumbs worked soft against her neck and Kathryn felt her knees weaken a bit. She clasped his hands to steady herself.

"If I tell you the story, you will think I'm a very cruel person." A blush touched her cheeks.

"Somehow I doubt that." He pressed his thumbs in a little harder and Kathryn had to stifle a moan.

"Alright, but my mouth is so dry all of a sudden. Let me get something to drink." She took a sip of the wine and sat down again, her legs drawn up under her she rested on one hip. He sat closer this time and she had to force herself not to squirm. "My father wanted me to meet someone he had been seeing, so we all went to dinner. Within thirty seconds I learned that her name was Jenna, she was a vegan and I was a horrible human being because I do eat meat and other animal products."

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "I will presume that your father was not charmed by her manners. What did you say?"

"Absolutely nothing." Kathryn smiled a cold little smile and met his gaze. "I enjoyed a wonderful steak tartar and watched Ariel go from white to gray to a most unexpected shade of green. Then, for some reason she left."

His look of surprise was as pleasant as his rich, warm laughter. Kathryn felt her cheeks flush with pleasure as she laughed.

"I told you I had a cruel streak. Anyway, as I was tuning out my father's lecture I thought, food is food. The cow didn't feel sorry for the grass it ate; I didn't feel sorry for the cow. Why should a person like Paul feel any guiltier for surviving in his own way than any other living thing feels? I wrote ten pages that night and the rest is history, so to speak." Kathryn smoothed the hem of her skirt over her knees, waiting for his reaction.

"You never use the word, do you?" It was a statement more than it was a question. One cool finger traced designs on the back of her hand, his eyes on her face.

"What word is that?" Kathryn looked into the fire, letting her hair fall over her face.

"Vampire." He moved her hair aside again, turning her to face him.

"Haven't I said it?" She tried to sound casual, but Kathryn could feel panic rising for some reason. "Strange, I thought I had."

"No. Say it." There was a distinct note of command again.

"I write it all the time." She said. She felt the pressure against her mind beginning again. His thumb stroking her jaw.

"But I want to hear it from your lips." His eyes were locked on his, her mind struggling against the increasingly uncomfortable pressure.

"Why? It's just a word." Somehow she knew he wasn't going to be deterred but the conversation seemed trivial to the battle raging inside her head.

"If it's just a word why do you resist saying it?" His voice had taken on a harsh tone that would have sent her running immediately, if she hadn't felt rooted to the spot. The pressure turned to bright pain.

"You're hurting me!" She whimpered, tears squeezing from the corner of her eyes.

"Hush, Kathryn." He drew her head against his shoulder and she found she had no energy to struggle, his voice soothing again. "Stop resisting me." He brushed away her tears and she felt her resolve slipping. "Resisting will only bring you more pain."

Kathryn couldn't hold him back anymore. The crushing pain was gone instantly, replaced with swirling warmth and the sound of her own heartbeat. Her body went limp against him and she got a sense of the power of his will.

"There now, just one word." His voice resonated inside her head, soothing her further.

"Vampire." She whispered against his shoulder, her body trembling.

"Hush." He soothed again, his fingers stroking through her hair. "If I should require your surrender like this again, you won't resist me, will you?"

"I'll...try not to." Her consciousness was fighting and caught up at the same time.

"Then I will teach you not to, but at another time. For now, it will be as if this exchange never happened. Do you understand?" Kathryn nodded and he brushed away the last of her tears. He helped her to sit up again and Kathryn found herself staring at the softly glowing fire, feeling as though something was missing.

"Kathryn?" He smiled and stroked her cheek lightly.

"I'm sorry." She blushed softly. "It seems the music and the wine put me in a rather dreamy state for a moment."

"I asked about your new book, but if you would rather not talk about it, I understand." She was getting used to his closeness, finding it comfortable.

"I don't mind, though I don't have much to tell right now. It's number four in the 'Unrepentant' line. It's the last one I'm under contract for and while I've been playing around with a few ideas, nothing is crystallizing yet."

"You sound as if you'd rather not do it." His arm rested along the back of the sofa and she leaned her head against it for a moment.

"If I wasn't under contract I wouldn't. It sounds very whiny, but I'm tired of getting stacks of letters ranting about how the word is spelled with a "y" not an "i". Other people tell me my character secretly feels guilty and I should focus on that, but if he does it's a secret from me too. A lot of them complain that I make up my own folklore and that I break all the rules. It doesn't seem to occur that I just do what fits in the story. All of those would be fine and I might even be able to deal with them face to face, but then there are the _very_ strange ones who frankly scare me. They're why I hide and why I'm glad the series is ending. Sounds whiny doesn't it?"

"Maybe honest would be a better word."

"Thanks, but you're being nice." She laughed softly. "Still, I'm glad I thought to use a pen name. I've been so secretive that Anna can just disappear when the series ends." Kathryn was smiling, relaxed in the dying firelight.

"Ah yes, Anna Perenna." He drew closer to her. Kathryn tensed for a moment and then relaxed again. Her fingers fidgeted until he grasped them lightly. "Why that name?"

"From the Roman legend." Kathryn generally didn't like to explain her choice of name. It usually led to a long discussion and her sounding rather like a stodgy old professor lecturing a bored class. That was a sure conversation killer.

"Of course, but there are several about her. But which one?" She looked at him closely for a moment, a little surprised by the question. Finally she realized she was staring and looked away.

"I'm sorry, no one I've met who knows Anna and I are the same person knew there was more than one. The one where the plebeians wanted representation in the government so they holed up in the Mons Sacer intending to secede." She laughed softly. "Something about her supporting the revolutionaries appealed to my American spirit I guess, it was the first thing that came to mind when I was thinking about a pen name. I found out later that her feast day and my birthday are the same day."

"The first thing? The stories must have made an impression on you." His thumb rubbed her wrist lightly. Kathryn blushed and shrugged a little.

"I grew up reading Greek and Roman myths. I have a cousin about my age and when we had sleepovers we would fight over what story to have at bedtime. I thought Cinderella was silly and she thought Persephone was weird." Kathryn laughed softly at the memory. His closeness and the touch of those cool fingers were making it hard to be still though. She bit her lip softly.

"And that interest has followed you." His fingers moved up her arm very lightly. Kathryn trembled slightly and hoped he didn't notice.

"You might say that." She could hear the catch in her own voice.

"Do I make you nervous?" He seemed to be just inches from her face now.

"Oh god yes." She replied without even thinking. She blushed deeply when she realized how it sounded. She was glad to see only amused surprise on his face. "I mean, I've spent an awful lot of time buried in dusty old books and none in candlelit rooms with intense gentlemen."

"Something I will have to remedy." There was no hint of a question in his voice, but Kathryn found that she didn't mind. Nor did she mind the soft lips that barely brushed hers, making her heart flutter pleasantly.

"This is going to sound like I'm trying to run away, but it feels like it's very late. I'm sorry." He checked his watch and his eyebrows rose slightly.

"It is very late, nearly five-thirty." He stroked her cheek softly and got up to get her cloak.

"Do you like the opera?" He held it for her and Kathryn stepped into it.

"I don't know. I've never actually been to one." She let him wrap the fabric around her shoulders. She noticed that he held her a bit closer than he had the first night.

"Then you'll join me Friday night for La Traviata." He waited for her to fasten the cloak and then moved her hair gently to the outside of the collar.

"I'd like that, thank you." Kathryn shivered softly as his fingertips made light contact with the back of her neck.

"I'll call for you Friday night at seven. If you should need to reach me," He handed her a card. "The numbers on the front will suffice, but the number on the back is my cell."

He waited with her for the car. Kathryn hugged herself beneath the cloak and tried not to smile too obviously on the way home.

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LaCroix was restless. It had been a simple plan, silence the writer. She was, after all, just a girl. A girl who smelled of fruit and flowers and heady innocence that brought him as close to losing control as he had been in more lifetimes than he cared to count. It would have been a simple matter to finish it when he finally established connection with her mind, but her strength intrigued him again. She had fought him even after he had overwhelmed her will. Now he was certain she didn't know the rarity of her abilities, or that she was using them. He was also certain that she knew nothing about his kind that would compromise the community. She had blundered dangerously close to the periphery, but not close enough to absolutely require her elimination. At least, not right now.

He blamed Nicholas for this hesitation, this willingness to supplant his nature. He had ordered decimations and the torture of innocents all without a flutter of conscience. He had fed freely with all the gusto of a mortal glutton and still did without a single twinge of guilt. His son's relationship with the doctor had angered him. Part of that anger was the loss of Fleur, but part of it was envy. The comfortable closeness Nicholas had found was something he wanted for himself, though he never would have admitted it.

That was the past now. This girl was the present. He had been indulging himself for close to 2,000 years now; he would look at this as another temporary indulgence. Perhaps he would bring her across; perhaps he would simply kill her when her company palled. Time would tell.

LaCroix had settled into bed and was on the edge of his dreamless sleep when he felt a slight but deliberate tug at the fragile connection he had established with her mind. What shocked him back to full wakefulness was that it had come from her to him.

This would bear further investigation. After a few keystrokes on his computer he settled back in bed and tried to find sleep again.


	5. To Shop, Perchance To Dream

5. To Shop, Perchance to Dream

Kathryn was jarred out of sleep by a ringing phone.

"Hello?" She mumbled, trying to see the clock.

"Thank God! I thought you were dead!" Corey said as Kathryn tried to collect her thoughts.

"Why would I be dead? What time is it anyway?" Kathryn rubbed her eyes and sat up, grateful for the light-blocking drapes in the bedroom.

"It's just after two in the afternoon. And because I tried to call you until four in the morning. You weren't answering your cell or at home and you never stay out that late."

"Oh, well that's because I didn't get home until a little after six." Kathryn heard the blare of a horn and winced. "You're not driving are you?"

"Well yeah! I was coming over to see if you were there strangled or something. Be there in twenty minutes."

"See you soon." Kathryn said, deciding that she had time for a quick shower. She didn't bother to think about the idea that Lucien would have strangled her and brought her body back to the house. Corey didn't always make a great deal of sense, but her heart was in the right place. After the shower she had the courage to open the drapes.

For two years she had been a confirmed night owl. Her writing seemed to flow better at night and so sunlight had become a somewhat unwelcome novelty. Today though, she did need a dress for the opera. She flushed with pleasure, smiling at the thought of spending another evening in his company. She was running down the stairs in an old sweatshirt and jeans when the bell rang. She was surprised to see a delivery person standing there and not Corey when she opened the door.

"Kathryn Paige?" The young man read her name from a clipboard.

"Yes." He shoved the clipboard and pen at her and she signed dutifully by the X. Without a word he went out to his van and came back with an enormous bouquet of flowers covered in plastic to protect them from the weather.

"Enjoy." He said in a flat voice, shoving the vase at Kathryn. She was just shutting the door when she saw Corey pull into the spot the van had just left.

"Just in time for the big unveiling." Kathryn called to her.

Corey ran up the walk and slammed the front door. Kathryn cringed a little and thought of how much it had cost to have the stained glass restored.

"He sent flowers already?" She was at Kathryn's side in a flash.

"I don't know they're from him yet." Kathryn finally managed to break through the layers of plastic to reveal Black Forest calla lilies the color of deep, dark blood and their white cousins. The arrangement itself was large, but not disproportionately so. Corey found the card first and Kathryn practically had to wrestle it away from her.

"Might not be from him, huh?" Corey said with a wry smile.

"Would you let me read it please?" Kathryn laughed, finally getting the stubborn little envelope open.

_So you will think of me as I think of you...L_

"Okay, so they're from him." Kathryn and Corey both danced around a little.

"So you did it, right?" Corey said when she stuffed the yards of plastic into the trash.

"Corey!" Kathryn's blush was as deep and dark as the unusual lilies. She had seen them before, but had thought they were rather rare, that could have been a false impression though.

"Well, gone all night, more flowers than my mom's second wedding, big smiles. It all adds up to Kathryn Paige finally came out of the convent." Corey was positively gleeful.

"I am still in the cloister, thank you very much." She found a shallow, cut glass tray that complemented the vase and set it under the flowers like a saucer when she placed them on the console table in the living room.

"Oh come _on_ Kat! You really expect me to believe that you just talked all night?" Corey followed her, looking incredulous.

"Well, whether you believe it or not, we _did_ just talk." She was smiling as she pulled on her socks.

"About what?" Corey still sounded as if she didn't believe it, but Kathryn really couldn't help that.

"Oh, history, a bit about language, my books, you know, boring things like that." She grabbed her sneakers.

"You hate talking about your books. Any information I get I have to practically drag out of you." Corey sat down next to Kathryn, her brows knitted slightly.

"I know. I don't understand it either, but there's something so familiar about him sometimes. Anyway, grab your purse." Kathryn was up and slipping into a denim jacket while Corey trailed behind.

"Why?"

"Because we're going shopping, I need a dress for the opera." Kathryn was out the door to the garage before Corey could answer.

"Are you _trying_ to drive the guy away?" Corey rolled her eyes as she got into the car, forgetting to comment on Kathryn's checking of mirrors and gauges before pulling out.

"He suggested it." She said simply.

"Yeah, but you probably told him that you like it or something. Who comes up with opera on their own?" She checked her makeup in the visor mirror and touched up her lipstick.

"Well it isn't as if the concept is from Saturn or something. Besides, this will be my first evening at the opera. I may hate it." Kathryn saw the little shop she was looking for and, miraculously, a parking place right in front of it. The two women walked in and started browsing.

"You should get something really _hot_. Let him know you're available." Corey said, looking at a midriff baring garment that looked like something out of the Arabian Nights.

"I'm not _that_ available." Kathryn said.

"How may I help you?" The saleswoman asked, raising an eyebrow at Corey.

"She wants to see something like this." Corey pointed at Kathryn.

"I do not." Kathryn felt herself blush. "I need something suitable for an opera, preferably in dark green or maybe a brown. Unfortunately this is short notice so alterations may be out of the question."

"Right this way." The saleswoman led Kathryn away and after seeing several options she ended up selecting a coppery-brown strapless with a full layered skirt that came about to her knees. There were darker brown bands around the hem of the skirt, one around the top of the bodice, and a thin tie around the waist that tucked it, but didn't bring it tight to her body. She selected a pair of retro pumps that suited the retro look of the dress.

"Well?" Kathryn admired herself in the mirror, liking the silhouette of the dress on her body. She turned slowly for Corey, pleased with how the dress moved around her.

"Not half bad." Corey said, after appraising for a moment.

"That means it looks great and I should take it." Kathryn said to the hovering saleswoman.

"Will you need a bag as well?" The older woman asked.

"Yes. I'm sure that I don't have anything to suit this at home." Kathryn stepped out of the shoes and let the saleswoman unzip the dress.

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"So," Corey started. "You're going to be taking the top off the cookie jar?" Kathryn nearly spit out her tortellini. She was grateful the restaurant was dimly lit; it concealed most of her deep blush.

"Honestly, is that all you ever think about?" Kathryn took a moment to compose herself before taking another bite.

"I bet that's what he's thinking about." She answered with a little smile.

"Maybe so, but at least he isn't as obvious about it." Kathryn sipped her wine. "Besides, maybe he'll get bored and then what? I'd rather not rush."

"Hon, glaciers move faster than you do. You're never going to find this eternal whatever you're looking for Kat. You have right now to enjoy, if it doesn't last, it doesn't. At least you had some fun." Corey was shredding a piece of bread like she always did before she ate it. That habit had always annoyed Kathryn but she didn't say anything.

"Eternity doesn't exist, except in my books. I'd be happy with semi-permanent." Kathryn was savoring the pasta. As hard as she tried she could never get the sauce quite the same when she made this dish at home. She was also trying to be nonchalant about the feelings Corey's comments gave rise to. The thought of getting involved with someone and then losing them had always played on Kathryn's mind.

"This is _me_ you're talking to Kat. Every time you've even had a brush with really liking someone you back away because you're afraid they'll leave you in one way or another. You would rather be alone than face that, which leads me to think that you are looking for someone you can't lose." Corey said. Kathryn squirmed a little in her seat and took a long swallow of wine. Sometimes Corey struck entirely too close to the truth.

"Well, thank you, Dr. James. Maybe you wouldn't mind analyzing this recurring dream I've been having at my next session." She was taking refuge in sarcasm and she knew it. She got the impression that Corey did too.

"Trains going through tunnels?" She wore a little grin.

"From the unconscious of a nun? Certainly not." Kathryn laughed softly and wiped her mouth. "Come over and do my hair tomorrow night. I want it all piled in curls on top of my head and you do it so well that way."

"So, I get to meet him? When I'm not drunk I mean?" There was a little twinkle in her eye.

"Maybe. _If_ you promise to be on your best behavior." Kathryn pointed her fork at Corey in mock threat.

"Okay, okay, put down the weapons." She laughed, leaving behind the seriousness of a few minutes before.

By the time Kathryn got home it was a little after ten. She hung the dress and dug around in her bag for a few minutes, looking for Lucien's card. She noticed a trace of his scent clung to it and she savored the fragrance of soft sandalwood appreciatively before she dialed.

"LaCroix." His voice was gruff and guarded and it took Kathryn back for a moment.

"Um, this is Kathryn Paige," She finally managed, her voice holding the uncertainty she felt. "If this is a bad time-"

"Not at all." His voice took on the same rich, warm quality it had the night before. "I'm glad to hear from you."

"You must be busy, but I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They're, well, spectacular is the only word that comes to mind." Kathryn could feel a flush of color rise to her cheeks.

"I'm glad you liked them, so many associate lilies with funerals." She could hear music in the background, but it was distant.

"They're perfect." Kathryn's heart was pounding so loudly she almost wondered if he could hear it through the phone. "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

"You're not interrupting, Kathryn. In fact, if you're available we could have a drink this evening." She heard the sincerity in his voice and Kathryn relaxed.

"It's a tempting offer, but I need to have another go at getting something done on the new book. I'm sorry."

"I understand. Tomorrow night then."

"I look forward to it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She remembered the feeling of his lips against her for that brief moment and she just held the phone against her chest while she took a deep breath. Kathryn knew it was going to be almost impossible to concentrate now. She changed quickly into her running clothes and went out to dispel some of her nervous energy before she tried to concentrate.


	6. Not All Who Wander Are Lost

_Author's Note: La Traviata was written by Giuseppe Verdi and first performed in 1853. _

_psyche b._

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

Kathryn sat in front of the mirror and frowned at her reflection. Her hair was perfect. The dress looked even better than it had in the shop. But the picture wasn't quite complete, she needed some kind of jewelry and nothing seemed to fit. Her pearls were always an option but they didn't quite seem to suit the dress. She had a piece of chocolate brown velvet ribbon that would sit around her neck like a choker, but the silver circle-shaped pin she usually wore on it didn't look quite right either. She took it off and tried the ribbon on its own, and found she still couldn't decide. She stepped into her shoes and brought both pieces downstairs with her.

"Pearls or ribbon?" She asked Corey, who was spraying something glittery into her hair in the downstairs powder room.

"Pearls." Corey said, after thinking a moment.

"Really? You don't think they stand out too much? The ribbon mimics the banding on the dress." Kathryn moved in behind Corey and held both up to her neck again.

"Yeah, but you don't want to look stripey. Course I see what you mean about the pearls. I thought they were supposed to go with everything."

"I did too." The doorbell interrupted her. "That must be him." Kathryn swore under her breath and glanced at herself in the mirror. She had meant to be ready when he got there, but the opportunity for that had passed. She smiled and opened the door.

"Hi." Kathryn smiled and felt her heart flutter a little when she saw him standing there looking like a dream from central casting. "Please come in."

"You look lovely." He kissed her cheek lightly and closed the door behind himself.

"Thank you." Kathryn blushed softly. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready yet though, Corey and I are still debating what jewelry looks best with this dress."

"What are the options?" Kathryn thought she caught a bit of mild annoyance that she wasn't ready, but he was so still that she couldn't be completely certain because she was annoyed with herself for making him wait. It could have just been a projection. Anyway, he seemed to have good taste.

"Pearls," Kathryn held them up. "Ribbon," She displayed that as well. "Or nothing."

"Hiya," Corey said as she came out of the powder room.

"Ribbon." He said, taking it from her. He motioned for her to turn around, Kathryn found she did it without even thinking about it.

"Corey, you remember Lucien LaCroix." She said, as she faced her friend.

"Miss James." His voice had taken on a cool sound as he smoothed the ribbon against Kathryn's throat and fastened it. She tried to suppress a small shiver.

"Thank you." She murmured softly.

"I was pretty wasted the other night, but I sort of remember you now. Nice to meet you again, when I'm sober." She took the pearls from Kathryn's hand and disappeared upstairs.

"Perfect." He said, moving in front of Kathryn again, casting a glance at the stairs. "Will she be staying here?"

"On a Friday night?" Kathryn laughed a bit, taking Corey's jacket and her cloak from the hall closet. "She's going to see some band, the Mongols or the Vikings or something like that."

"The Invaders." Corey bounced back down the stairs and Kathryn resisted the urge to ask whether she had put the pearls away properly. She sensed the tension between Corey and Lucien already, she didn't want to add to it. She handed Corey her jacket and allowed Lucien to wrap the cloak around her. "They're playing until three, if you get bored with the opera."

He held the door open for both women

"A kind invitation." He responded. Kathryn heard the offhandedness in the comment; it seemed more the right thing to say than anything he meant. She locked the door. "Though I think the opera will suffice for Kathryn and I."

"Don't you think Kat has any say in the matter?" The challenge was obvious in Corey's voice, Kathryn turned to see them glaring at each other.

"Kathryn doesn't wish to go-" He began, his voice calm and reasonable but icily cold.

"Kathryn," She said firmly, stepping in between them, getting the strange impression that she interrupted something other than a staring match. "Is going to the opera with Lucien and I'm sure that I'll have a wonderful time. Once you get home from the Vandals, or whoever you can write me a long e-mail and tell me all about it. What could be simpler?" She smiled sweetly and took his arm.

"What indeed." He said softly, leading her to the waiting car. Kathryn could feel him watching her closely, but she kept her eyes forward and tried to keep the tension from creeping into her shoulders.

"She believes you're helpless without her." He said once the door was closed.

"There was a time when she was right, she just hasn't let go of that yet." Her eyes were directly on his, her dark eyes challenging for a moment before they softened again. His features softened a little more slowly, Kathryn got the impression that he was not used to being challenged.

"Were you able to get some work done on your book last night?" He said finally, and she relaxed.

"Once I went for a run I played around with it for a little while. Nothing is coming together yet though. I haven't even really settled on what Paul is going to discuss in this one. It's possible I'm looking for too much of a 'big finish'." She laughed softly and the ride took on an ease that was beginning to feel familiar. When they arrived there were still a few small knots of people in the lobby.

"We're not late, are we?" Kathryn checked her watch.

"No, but we should take our seats." His hand in the small of her back led her up a flight of wide stairs and then into a dimly lit private box. It was furnished with a single small settee. The scent of fresh flowers came from somewhere in the shadows. Kathryn stood still for a moment, taking it all in. He chuckled softly and reached around from behind her, starting to open the pin at her throat.

"Sorry." She blushed and worked the pin and buttons quickly, embarrassed at how impressed she was. She wondered if this man ever did anything simply.

"Think nothing of it. Make yourself comfortable." He spoke close to her ear again and Kathryn nodded. She settled herself on the small red sofa, she had almost forgotten about everything else when her cell phone played the first few notes of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Kathryn blushed deeply and got up again, retreating to a dim corner as she answered it.

"Larry, the answer is still no." She said without preamble.

"Kathryn, you don't even know what they offered." Her agent said, he was trying not to sound frustrated.

"I don't care if they offer the whole state of California. The answer is still no." She hissed.

"Do you know how many people would sell their grandparents for a deal like this?" She knew he was angry with her, but she didn't much care. She could also feel Lucien's eyes on her back and Kathryn had to fight to be still.

"Then offer it to one of them. The answer is no and I do not have the time to argue right now. Goodnight." Kathryn ended the call and turned off the phone. She was embarrassed when she sat down again.

"I'm sorry, I should have checked to make sure my phone was off before I got here." She sat next to him again. "My agent has terrible timing and a habit of not listening to me."

"Pressing for another book?" He sounded a bit annoyed and she didn't blame him.

"No. I've been offered a movie deal." She squirmed a little. It was the first time she had said it out loud. Not even her grandmother knew and she told her grandmother everything.

"And the offer is too low?" He seemed curious again.

"No, the offer is very generous and they've sweetened it three times now. But 'Unrepentant' isn't exactly Hollywood material. Once they finished shredding it there would be car chases and explosions and _if_ they left any of my history in they would have people in the 15th century doing the Macarena." She laughed softly and he chuckled, she could feel his disapproval melting. "I really am sorry about the phone."

"Monstrous little inventions, aren't they?" He shifted a bit, so that she sat back, feeling his arm pressed against her shoulders. His voice was soft, and close to her ear.

"I wouldn't have one at all, but sometimes it's a good idea for safety. I think I have it turned off more than it's on." Kathryn could feel her heart fluttering like a caged bird. She wondered what it was about him that caused such extreme reaction in her; he was only a man after all.

"A wise girl, in several respects." She could hear little smile in his voice without turning around. "Though I'm curious how you knew it was him."

"Everyone has their own ringtone. I just thought the idea of Death knocking on the door fit him." She laughed softly and settled back against him. The pause told her that he was debating whether or not to pursue the idea further.

"Do you speak Italian?" He asked finally.

"No, am I going to be terribly lost?" Kathryn turned slightly, surprised to find his face so close.

"Of course not. You will catch meanings from gestures and contexts, but I'll make certain that you understand the story." The orchestra began and Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the power of the music to wash over her, focusing on the rich tones and nuances.

"That's Violetta Valery, a courtesan. You are familiar with the term?" Kathryn nodded and he continued introducing the characters on the stage. "That is Flora Bervoix, the Marquis d'Obigny, Baron Douphol, Gastone and finally Alfredo Germont."

Kathryn relaxed listening to the music and the way the voices of the players blended with it and the rich honey of Lucien's voice that seemed to bind everything together. He told her the story, spoke the lines and then translated into English. Sometime during the second half of the performance she settled back against him more comfortably. One hand rested lightly on her waist and she gripped it when she became caught up in the drama. She found her handkerchief as Violetta lay dying, feeling her heart leap when Alfredo reappeared only to feel her tears flow freely again when Violetta finally succumbed to consumption at her lover's feet. Kathryn was still wiping her eyes when the houselights came up again.

"That was so very sad." She said. He let her go slowly.

"Because consumption finished her in the end?" She took her hand and steadied her as she stood. Kathryn realized what large hands he had when hers seemed to get lost in his.

"That, but mostly because they lost so much time in miscommunication and snobbery. Though I suppose if they hadn't there wouldn't have been a story." She said with a small laugh, stepping into her cloak when he held it out for her.

"Very true." He said softly. Kathryn was getting used to him wrapping her in the cloak, but it still gave her a bit of a quiver. "Give me a moment and I'll have the car brought around."

"Wait, do you think we could walk? If you don't mind I mean. I feel like I need a little air." Kathryn tried not to bite her lip as she waited for his answer. He spoke a few words into his phone and held the door open for her. The wind had chilled when they exited the opera house, but the night was not all together unpleasant.

"Do you often walk around in the dark?" He asked, waiting for her to take his arm.

"No, usually I run." She laughed softly, glad he was setting a comfortable pace. "There's a park at the end of my street that has a nice lighted jogging trail. It helps me clear my mind when I'm working on something."

"And what of your safety? Do you think that you are immune to dangers that lurk in the darkness?" She could hear the note of accusation and while something about it chilled Kathryn she also found she really didn't appreciate it. She was not his daughter or his property. Kathryn stopped and turned to face him, her chin tilted up defiantly as she found his eyes with a direct gaze.

"I sleep during the day and write all night. Weeks go by when I don't see daylight at all and that suits me just fine. But I won't let an unusual schedule mean that my life is suspended. I take all the precautions I can and have managed so far." Her eyes were locked on his.

"What happens when you find something you are unprepared for in your familiar darkness?" He challenged.

"What happens when I find something I am equally unprepared for in the daylight? Ted Bundy took victims off a crowded beach by pretending to be in a cast. I can't be a complete recluse because something might happen to me in the big bad world." He eyes remained on his for a moment before she turned away, her arms crossed over her stomach. "I'm sorry, maybe this was a bad idea."

She was about to walk away to find a cab when she felt his hand on her neck, his thumb stroking the bare skin there softly and Kathryn shivered.

"You are willful and far too sure of yourself." His voice was softer, he turned her to face him again. She lifted her eyes slowly.

"I know, but willfulness runs in my family, kind of like the color of my hair or the shape of my nose. I guess I haven't learned how to fight genetics yet." She smiled a little and he stroked her cheek softly.

"Perhaps you have another defense." He wrapped her hand around his arm and started walking again. Kathryn didn't resist.

"Oh? What's that?" Again he set a comfortable pace and Kathryn pressed close against his side. She wasn't sure why, she had noticed his body never seemed to be warm.

"Well, I had heard that you're psychic." His sarcasm was light and the danger that had tinged his voice was gone. Kathryn laughed softly.

"I was hoping you had forgotten that." She felt a warm blush rise to her cool cheeks.

They turned the corner and a blast of cold wind hit them squarely.

"Why would I want to forget such a thing? People have sought to know the future since the beginning of time."

Kathryn laughed and shook her head.

"I'm sure they have, but I would have been a bitter disappointment in that area. Corey only says that because of a game she and I used to play."

"That must have been quite a game." He said. Their voices were soft on the nearly deserted streets. Even traffic was unusually light. Kathryn rested her head against his shoulder for a moment.

"It was just people-watching really. When we were waiting in line or something we would pick out a group of people and make up a story about them. My stories just seemed to be more accurate than hers so she got this strange idea that I was somehow reading people's minds." He raised an eyebrow and Kathryn noticed the unusual quality of his eyes in the darkness. She told herself it was just how the streetlights were striking them. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and noticed a couple on a bus bench across the street. "Maybe I can show you." She pulled him into the deep shadow cast by a building and pointed at them.

Kathryn was fairly certain that the couple wouldn't notice they were being observed, but just in case one of them felt themselves being watched she didn't want to be standing out there staring. She supposed she could make the sacrifice of kissing him if anyone should wonder what the two of them were doing skulking around. She tried to suppress the little smile that tugged the corners of her mouth.

"The couple on the bench has been together awhile. He's more serious about the relationship than she is, in fact I would have to say that she's bored with him. See how she leans away when he leans close and how she's the one who pulls away when he kisses her?" Kathryn said after a few minutes of observation. She could feel him watching her more than the couple. She was silent again for a few minutes. "She waiting for someone else, who I would guess doesn't know Man One exists, though that's only a guess. She's looking at her watch so often though I think that Man One has stayed longer than she expected and he isn't taking her cues to leave. I would bet on an exaggerated gesture in the next few minutes."

Kathryn fell silent again. As if on cue, the young woman checked her watch several more times and then yawned and stretched, leaving no question that she wanted to say goodnight. Kathryn smiled a little.

"Finally he takes the hint." He stayed a moment more but soon both get up and exchange a somewhat chaste kiss and they each walk away in different directions. "She's not really leaving." Kathryn said softly. "Look at how slow she's moving and how she looks back at him."

"Perhaps she misses him already." He said softly, Kathryn fixed a flat look on him.

"After she practically told him to go away?" The young woman walked back to the bench again after a few minutes and Kathryn just smiled a little. Not long after a different man appeared and she kissed him passionately. "Too bad this one is just playing with her. Man One actually cares about her, this one wants a toy." She spoke softly, as if to herself and then turned to him again. "See, just a party game." She smiled and started to walk again. He looked at her curiously and Kathryn tried not to shiver when the wind struck them again.

"I should have listened to the weather report tonight. I might not have suggested this." She laughed softly, trying to ease her own tension.

"The car is on the next block. You'll come back to the club for a drink?" He said.

"I'd like that." Kathryn smiled and he lengthened his strides, she was nearly trotting to keep up, but at least she was warmer when they got there.

He brought her into the same book-lined study through a private entrance, avoiding the club all together. The fire and candles were lit and casting a warm glow over everything. Kathryn wondered who had prepared it in advance. She opened the cloak and he took it from her. She sat near the fire, wondering why she had bought a strapless dress without a shawl at this time of year. When he joined her he had taken off his jacket as well as his coat. Though the high collar of the charcoal gray shirt was still closed there was an air of informality about him. He handed her a glass of brandy.

"Sip it slowly." He said. Kathryn took a small sip.

"Thank you." She said, taking another sip before setting it aside. "So you've been looking at me strangely since the couple on the bus bench." She began a little hesitantly.

"I'm curious." He drew a little closer to her and Kathryn slipped her shoes off, pulling her feet up under her as she rested on her hip. "What kind of impressions do you get from me?"

"I don't do that with people I actually know." Kathryn shook her head and lowered her eyes. "I'm never right and it always ends up offending someone."

"We were not always acquainted. What story would you have told about me?" Her heart responded to the sensation of his fingers on her chin, turning her face back to his. She could tell this was a question that was not a question in that answering was not simply an option, it was required.

"I'm very bad at doing this with individuals, and I'm probably completely wrong so please, don't be offended or angry." Her eyes lowered and then met his uncertainly again. He smiled slightly and stroked her cheek.

"Now you have me very curious indeed." Kathryn fidgeted with the ribbon and he reached around her, his face close to hers while he unhooked it. She felt herself tense and began to realize how easy it would be to get lost in those eyes. Finally he handed the ribbon to her with a little smile. Kathryn blushed and put it into her bag, wondering how she thought she would ever have had the nerve to kiss him on the street. "Tell me." The soft note of command was not lost on her.

"Alright." Kathryn took a deep breath. "It's hard for me to get a sense of you like that because you're so still and guarded. Several of my impressions are confusing even to me so I'm afraid I don't know how to explain them any better. I would guess that you were in the military at some point, and while I have no idea what your rank might have been I would say that you were in a position of authority. I have no idea where your study took place or when, but I have a hard time picturing you in college and I don't know why that is. You seem out of place in the club, and yet you aren't. And the age you seem to be and the age you really are feels like two different things, but you have that 'old soul' thing going on too. How far off am I?"

"Remarkably accurate." His eyebrow had risen slightly. "Anything else?" Kathryn was starting to warm up now and relaxation was washing over her in soft waves. She still heard the hint of surprise in his voice. It occurred to her that he was a study in subtlety when it came to his reactions and she wondered how many people missed them all together, and how many she was missing.

"No, I stopped trying to do it before I left with Corey that first night. It _is_ just a game and I found myself hoping that I might be allowed to get to know you, so I didn't want to make up some inaccurate story about you." She rested her head against his arm again. The high back of the sofa and the way he rested his arm across it made it just about the perfect height. She hoped he didn't mind.

"It seems a rather powerful game, and one that you excel at." He said, smiling slightly.

Kathryn shook her head and looked away from a moment.

"If that was the case my social life wouldn't have always been such a disaster. I would have some kind of early warning system." She laughed softly. His fingers moved over her hand and she reached out to them, enjoying the cool touch.

"I find it strange that you spend so much time alone." His fingers laced with hers.

"Why? I'm boring." She laughed softly. "I've never fitted in to what I'm supposed to be. People tell me I'm pretty and therefore I'm not supposed to have a brain. People who know what I write think I should dress in black and use too much make-up and I would attract someone else "like me", only that isn't who I am. Men who are willing to put up with me having a brain think I'm also desperate for, shall we say companionship. Since that isn't the case I don't fit into that category either. So, I try and figure out who I've been set up with early in the evening and just dust off the "script" so to speak." Again, Kathryn wondered why she felt so free to tell him anything at all. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't fit into any of those neat categories either.

"What script is this?" He was amused.

"Let's see, the pretty-but-dumb script in a nutshell." Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment and took on a blank expression when she opened them. "Gosh a _lawyer_. Wow, I don't know if I can hold up my end of the conversation. That must be so _complex_ with all those laws and codes and things. I'm feeling terribly lost, maybe you can explain it to me again. Well I see that isn't going to help either, maybe you need a smarter girl, I hope you find her."

"That sounds very practiced." He laughed softly and so did Kathryn.

"Well I do get quite a bit of practice with that particular one. My father has been trying to get me married off to a lawyer at his firm since I turned eighteen, I don't think that it matters _which _one really, as long as the pedigree is right and he thinks I'll be taken care of. Although with a few substitutions the script works for just about any profession." She looked down at her fingers twined with his and was a little surprised to realize his skin was paler than hers.

"I thought arranged marriages had fallen out of fashion." He squeezed her hand lightly.

"They have, but my father hasn't really known what to do with me since I was twelve. I look a great deal like my mother and he's never been able to forgive her for dying." She looked into the fire and bit the inside of her cheek sharply, trying to regain control of her emotions. She hoped he would just drop the subject.

"She must have been very young." He drew her closer, guiding her to rest her head against his shoulder and Kathryn shifted to rest against his side.

"She was." She was silent for a moment. "You know if I really wanted to write horror I would write about cancer. At least Paul is humane; he kills quickly and doesn't make loved ones watch. Anyway, Daddy thinks that if he can get me married and taken care of that he won't feel so guilty for sending me to Grandmother's right after the funeral. It doesn't occur to him that I might have other plans." She managed a short laugh and swiped at her eyes, hoping that he wouldn't notice. For a few moments the soft crackling of the fire was the only sound that could be heard in the room. Finally Kathryn felt some of the tension leave her body and he started to pull the pins out of her hair.

"I'm sorry. I should learn to give simple answers." She smiled up at him shyly.

"No, you shouldn't. I never ask a question I don't want the answer to." He turned her head slightly and kept tugging the pins out of her hair. "So do your other scripts end as politely?" She heard the little smile in his voice. She laughed softly.

"Well, usually. Though ending the desperate-for-companionship one ruined a favorite blouse of mine." She laughed.

"Another story I must hear." Kathryn felt his soft chuckle as much as she heard it. The feeling of his fingers moving through her hair made her shiver a little.

"It's not a very nice story. You may end up thinking you're sitting next to a dangerous felon." She squirmed slightly and his arm came around her shoulders. It only rested there but it gave her the impression he preferred her to remain where she was. So did the soft tug against her mind. She looked up at him as soon as she felt it, but it was probably a manifestation of her nervousness. Kathryn looked away again.

"I seriously doubt that." He lifted her chin again. "Tell me." Again that soft note of command struck Kathryn.

"Well, it's not much to tell really. Corey had set me up with someone and he and I had nothing in common with. I was getting ready to leave and for some reason he was trying to convince me to stay and he thought the way to do that was to grab me in a place I didn't appreciate being grabbed. I guess I just reacted, and I was lucky that the punch I landed broke his nose." Kathryn felt the mean little smile spread across her face and he laughed out loud. "It's not that funny, the blood never did come out of my blouse."

"Perhaps you're better at taking care of yourself than I gave you credit for." His thumb was stroking her jawline softly and Kathryn felt a soft blush rise to her cheeks.

"I'm resourceful when I need to be." She smiled slightly.

"And if I were to take a small liberty, would I be compromising my safety?" His hand held her head steady and Kathryn felt her heart beating faster. His intense blue eyes sending pleasant chills down her spine. She found speaking was out of the question, she simply shook her head.

His lips covered hers, softly at first and then more insistently. Kathryn sighed and arched against him. Her fingers hesitantly moved over his chest, her lips parted under his gentle insistence. His tongue explored her mouth and she caressed it softly with hers, her head spinning at the sensation such light touches could create. When his lips finally retreated, Kathryn found that she could barely breathe. She pressed a little closer, shocked by the intense desire he was able to stir in her.

"It seems I'm still safe." He spoke softly with a small chuckle.

"You make me sound dangerous." Kathryn was still trying to catch her breath. She felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks.

"Maybe not dangerous, perhaps surprising is a better word." His lips brushed her forehead and Kathryn laughed softly.

"I could say the same of you. I expected to have a very bad time that night Corey brought me here." Kathryn said, realizing that it seemed like a hundred years ago now.

"Did she intend for you to meet someone here?" His voice had taken on that edge of displeasure that she was beginning to hear clearly, despite his efforts to hide it.

"I doubt it. Corey gave up on me a long time ago in that respect. She always had to hear how awful the evening was in stereo." Kathryn laughed softly and so did he.

"I'm glad she did. There were enough interruptions that first night. Besides, I can see myself being very selfish with your attentions." Kathryn raised her eyes, a bit surprised at the implication of the statement.

"You hardly know me, I'm-"

"Willful, opinionated, cruel at times, guarded, intelligent, out of place in your own age and unusually perceptive. There are other things but those are the major players. Did I leave anything out?" His eyes were fixed on hers and Kathryn squirmed a little.

"Yes. Often at a loss around you has to be in there somewhere." She found it hard to keep her eyes on his, he smiled a bit.

"It's getting late, do you like Shakespeare?" He stroked her cheek softly. Kathryn found she didn't know how to respond for a moment. She checked her watch and found it was after four.

"Yes." She said finally, wishing she didn't always feel so off balance around him. "At least the plays I've seen."

"Then you will join me for Titus Andronicus tomorrow night." The way he said it let her know the decision had already been made. It bothered her that he felt so free to arrange her schedule, but it bothered her more that she was so willing to let him.

"I'd like that. And thank you for tonight, for the opera and the conversation." She kissed him lightly, hesitantly. His hand held her head still as he deepened the kiss, his other hand moving down her side to rest on the swell of her hip. Kathryn felt her body reacting as it had before, with less hesitation. Her knees felt weak as she stood and slipped back into her shoes and she was grateful for his steadying hand.

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LaCroix savored how her scent lingered even after she had gone and wondered if he was experiencing some sort of immortal senility. It was impossible that he cared for her, wasn't it? Those emotions were gone, scarred out of existence centuries ago. Weren't they? She affected him, that was certain. She challenged him without fear even though most people were at least uneasy around him. She infuriated him. She deferred to him and she reached a passion in him that he was unaccustomed to feeling without the immediate desire for her blood. That desire was there of course, that was just part of his nature, but he hadn't thought about finishing her all evening. Even though the sweet, fruity smell of her was intoxicating. The feeling of familiarity made itself known again as well, though he still couldn't place her.

He tried to sort out the jumble of his thoughts. She appreciated culture, could hold an intelligent conversation, and had a rare wit and actually made him laugh and she didn't take his laughter as a way to manipulate him. It was also painfully clear that she had no idea of her mental abilities. She was not a mind-reader as the vulgar friend thought, but she was an unusually strong intuitive who had a clear sense of his mental manipulations, even if she thought it was her own imagination at work. He would have to be more subtle if he chose to employ those techniques in the future.

She was also achingly young, and while there were distinct vestiges if ages past it didn't change the fact that there was an almost cloistered innocence about her now. That was something that he was not accustomed to anymore. Somewhere in time young women of her tender years had somehow decided that being aggressive was attractive and acceptable. That made hunting easier but he didn't like it personally. Now, confronted with the opposite, he found himself wondering about the hidden passion he had felt in her hesitant kisses.

No matter what road his mind started down though he couldn't escape the fact that he cared about her. A small quiver ran down from between his shoulder blades and he knew that losing her would not be an option. This age of independence engendered challenges though. What he knew of her personality already made it obvious that she would not simply accept his control as easily as she might have in ages past. Even when she accepted the decisions he made for her he could tell that she was conflicted about it. For some reason he didn't quite understand yet he preferred that change on its own, though if it seemed like he might lose her he wouldn't hesitate to change it.

He was, after all, who he was.


	7. The Distant Clash of Centuries

7. The Distant Clash of Centuries

Kathryn slept deeply and managed to write a few pages and then delete it all before Corey called. That was becoming entirely too common. She wasn't even close to being behind, but she had never had such a hard time coming up with something that worked.

"How were the Invaders?" She asked.

"Well, the lead guitar player was _fabulous_." Corey said with a little growl that made Kathryn blush. "How was Mr. Stuffy?"

"Oh that's nice." Kathryn started looking through her closet, finally selecting a dark gray flannel skirt and a hunter green twinset.

"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't notice. He acted like he owned the place as soon as he walked in the door. I'm surprised he waited for you to open it first." Corey sounded sullen and Kathryn got the impression that she was feeling left out of the loop. "And besides, did you see how _old_ he is?"

"Well he's hardly an escapee from the geriatric ward." Kathryn laughed softly. "I'm certain he wouldn't just walk in but he can be a little brusque at times. It's just his way." She sat down and started to use her free hand to experiment with her hair.

"So his way is overbearing and snobby. And you like him why?"

"He's not as bad as that, he's just used to being in charge. I suppose it could be bit off-putting."

"And you don't mind? I find that hard to believe."

"Well it isn't that I don't mind exactly. It just feels comfortable for some reason. When it doesn't I let him know." Kathryn settled on a style that would catch half of her hair in a silver clip. He seemed to prefer it loose anyway.

"I bet that makes you popular." Corey snorted disdainfully and took a bite of something crunchy.

"He's a grown man Corey, as you so sensitively pointed out. I don't think me expressing an opinion is going to rock the foundations of his world. It is the 21st century after all."

"Are you sure he knows that? Operas and flowers and 'just talking' all night long, not to mention that letter. What if you had lied to impress him?" She was chewing again.

"Oh sure, I'm going to use something that usually gets me strange looks to try and impress a perfect stranger at a nightclub. That's not even logical, Corey. Besides, some people would consider all of those things romantic and refreshing." Kathryn glanced at the clock and realized that she had a little over an hour.

"Stalkers do that kind of stuff. Normal people just write their number on a napkin, you call, meet at a bar for a few beers and if you're lucky some hot, sweaty sex. Next time he asks you out just say you have something else planned. If he gets weird you can call the cops." Kathryn could hear the concern, but she was also very sure that Corey was jealous.

"That napkin thing may work for most people, but it doesn't work for me. And we're going to see Titus Andronicus tonight."

"Who?" Kathryn could almost see the expression on Corey's face.

"It's not a who really; it's a play by Shakespeare. And Lucien's going to be here in about an hour so I need to get ready."

"Did he _ask_ you to the play or _tell_ you that you were going?" Now Corey sounded pouty.

"Funny, I could have sworn you were the same person who wanted me to fall on my back for him." It was a good point she made about asking and telling though. She had been annoyed but saying no hadn't even seriously crossed her mind.

"Well, maybe he would still be alright for that, but you know I still don't remember that first night you met him. If I did, maybe I wouldn't have been so excited." She was crunching on something again.

"I still would be." Kathryn laughed. "I really _really_ have to go because I still need to shower. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Alright, night Kat."

"Night." She could tell that Corey wasn't happy, but her purpose in life was not to make Corey happy. This was just new, she told herself as she showered quickly. She had always been the one who listened to Corey talk about men she was seeing and then was there to help pick up the pieces when those men left. It was just new to have those roles reversed and it would take some getting used to.

When she was drying her hair her eyes fell on the simple gold cross her mother had given her for her first Communion. She hadn't thought of it in years but now it got her mind spinning. She dressed quickly and started jotting notes before he got there. It made her wonder why ideas didn't come at convenient times.


	8. Ritual, Art & Control

Ritual, Art and Control

Like the night before they sat in relative privacy to enjoy the play. His arm rested around her shoulders and he spoke softly from time to time, commenting on the play itself or the acting. Even if rain hadn't been falling in icy sheets when they exited the theater, Kathryn got the sense that there would be no walk this evening and the return to his study for a drink was a given.

Kathryn slipped off her wet shoes and stood close to the fire when they got inside, shivering a bit from the damp. Her slight frame always seemed to make her more susceptible to chill than most people.

"He should have had an umbrella." Lucien said, his voice still held a bit of upset. The look he had given the driver was positively withering. He placed a silky throw around Kathryn's shoulders and handed her a glass of brandy. She sipped and curled up next to him.

"There was no rain predicted for tonight, especially nothing like this. Besides, I've been rained on before and I'm still relatively intact." She took another sip of the brandy. He managed a small smile but she didn't see much warmth in it.

"Have you been able to get any work done?" He drained the red wine and set the glass aside. Kathryn wondered if he ever took anything else. She took one more sip of the brandy and set it aside. She was sure that it was very good and she felt guilty not finishing it, but it was stronger than what she was used to.

"Actually, as I was getting ready tonight an idea struck me. I need to do some research and decide exactly how I want to present it in the book, but I'm pretty certain this is what I'm going to run with." She settled comfortably against his shoulder.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow curiously. "What subject?"

"Religion and folklore concerning people like Paul, and how they are interrelated. Links with Catholicism and Catholic symbolism, that kind of thing."

"So your vampire will be vanquished by the power of the church?" He sounded surprised.

"Certainly not." She managed to keep from rolling her eyes, but couldn't keep the offense out of her voice. "I don't know if I believe that the church has any power at all. I don't mean to offend you if you're religious."

"Not at all, please go on." He was looking at her curiously, his arm around her shoulders.

"Well," Kathryn was trying to ignore the pleasant sensations his touch was creating. "It occurred to me that Christianity didn't exist until a couple of thousand years ago. When did stories about people like Paul first show up? If it was before Christianity, what effects did previous faiths have and if they were the same doesn't that mean that it's the psychology of the one the symbol is used against that matters and not the symbol itself? If my character is a member of an older faith, is he impervious to religious symbolism after his transformation if it's not the right religion? I guess that's not what you would imagine I sit and think about." She laughed softly and felt a blush color her cheeks a little, leaning forward to take a sip of her drink.

"I am learning to appreciate the pleasant surprises that come with asking you questions." The throw moved slightly when she set the glass back down and his hand slipped under it, one of his fingertips contacting bare skin at the hem of the sweater. "Though I'm curious, what are your views on the subject of religion?"

"In what context?" She heard the soft hitch in her voice and she was sure that he did too. His fingertip moved softly, teasingly over her skin and Kathryn started to relax against his shoulder.

"I would imagine that your views in general affect your views in the book." There was an amused little smile on his lips when he felt goosebumps rise on her skin.

"Well, again no offense intended. I was raised Roman Catholic and I still absolutely believe in a higher power, but I find the Catholic Church entirely too misogynistic and political for my taste. Besides, I think religion and faith are two different things. Rituals are just a means to control people and unify them for a common cause. Faith is more unpredictable and passionate." Kathryn found that she had relaxed again, enjoying his touch and closeness.

"Very true. You never just look at the surface of anything, do you?" It was a statement, not a question. Kathryn shrugged a little, smiling up at him.

"Why would I want to do that? The surface of the majority of things is deceiving. Besides, my mother and grandmother both taught me to question everything. It drove my teachers crazy but I think it's helped my writing." She laughed softly.

"What would your mother have thought of your books?" He asked, a bit more of his hand slipping under her sweater, stroking her spine lightly. Kathryn found she didn't mind the sensation at all.

"She would have loved them I think. I know Grandmother does. I think she gets more excited than I do when I'm close to finishing one." She laughed softly and arched against him. "Of course without Jenna there might not have been a first book."

"If you weren't writing, what would you picture yourself doing?" Kathryn thought it was a strange question in some ways. She also found that as much as she wanted to hide the fact behind her pseudonym she couldn't picture herself doing anything else. Stories came naturally to her.

"I really don't know, but something tells me that I wouldn't be sitting here now. I wouldn't have needed atmosphere and so I wouldn't have come into the club that night."

"Do you intend to use my club in one of your books?" He looked mildly surprised.

"Oh gosh no." She laughed and his eyebrows rose.

"No, that didn't come out right." Kathryn said, blushing deeply. "This is why I'm a writer and not a speaker; at least on paper I can edit myself before I get my foot too far into my mouth. I mean it's just not Paul's style. Besides, it was so overwhelming that first night I think I could spend a whole book just describing it without really getting all the nuances." He smiled a little before he brushed her lips with his.

Kathryn shivered pleasantly and heard her own soft sigh escape before she could think to stop it. She arched against him and his mouth became more aggressive, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hungry passion that made Kathryn shiver against him. The throw slid from her shoulders as she pressed against him, her hands stroking his back softly. Her hands were still hesitant despite the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. His mouth moved down over the front of her throat and Kathryn arched her head back, moaning softly as featherlight kisses trailed down to the hollow of her throat. His tongue swirled in the small depression, tasting her skin, one arm supported her shoulders, the other moved up her thigh to the swell of her hip and then under the hem of the sweater at her waist. Kathryn gasped softly and felt herself stiffen when she felt his cool fingers contact her now-too-warm skin. His thumb stroked her side softly as his mouth made its way back to hers, his lips softer this time. Kathryn felt some of the tension leave her body again. He looked down into her eyes and smiled a little. He got up and drew her to her feet as well in one graceful motion.

"Time you see the rest of my home." Kathryn was trying to catch her breath as she followed him up a set of narrow stairs and into a room that resembled the one they had just left; only it was a good deal larger. Tall bookshelves gave way to a fireplace and a tasteful distribution of artwork that seemed to Kathryn to have been chosen because it appealed to him, not for any decorator's 'look'. The fire itself and the small lights over the paintings were the only illumination in the room. Furniture sat in shadowed clusters in several places. The opposite end of the room was occupied by a large library table. As her eyes adjusted she could tell there were lamps within the conversation clusters, they just weren't turned on. To Kathryn it felt like how she pictured a comfortable men's club, well appointed but not lavish.

"Another part of my collection." He said after a moment of letting her taken in the room. He placed his hand in the small of her back and led her toward a dim hallway. "I am not a cook, so the kitchen isn't worth showing. There is outdoor space on the roof through that door, but the weather makes a tour right now unpleasant." Kathryn hesitated and he pressed her forward gently.

"This," He opened the door at the end of the hall and flipped the switch so that the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. "Is my sanctuary." Kathryn scanned the room, imagining his pale skin against the deep merlot of the bedclothes, she blushed when she realized he was watching her very closely.

"It's beautiful." She murmured and slipped past him to the great room again. "Was that a Leighton I saw hanging over the fireplace?" She heard a little quiver in her own voice as she looked up, studying the picture and trying to get hold of herself. For some strange reason she wished she had worn her shoes. When he stepped behind her she felt terribly short, not just average short. His hands rested on her shoulders.

"Yes, actually. You are familiar with his work?" His hands massaged gently and Kathryn felt herself relax again under his soft touch.

"Somewhat. I have a print of 'The Garden of the Hesperides' in my dining room, though now that I look more closely I don't think that's a print." She felt his soft chuckle.

"No, it isn't. Are you familiar with this particular piece?" His thumbs caressed the back of her neck and Kathryn leaned back a little more.

"I think it's 'The Painter's Honeymoon', but I'm probably wrong. I'm no expert." Kathryn felt her heart slowing and relaxation starting to wash over her again.

"Expert or not, you're correct. So, now I know that you have an appreciation of art as well as music and history." She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest.

"Well, some art." His arms moved slowly around her shoulders and she leaned her head against one firm bicep. "Some more abstract pieces are completely incomprehensible to me. All that comes to mind is that the artist was angry with the canvas. I'm sure that's a very unenlightened view."

"Some might see it that way. I prefer to think of it as honest." He drew her to one of the shadowed sofas and Kathryn moved to him easily when he drew her close.

"Now that's one of the reasons I'm going to miss you next week." She laughed softly.

"Oh?" His eyebrow rose a bit. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Well, no but I have to work sometime and I'm sure that you do too. Tempting as the thought is I can't monopolize all of your time."

He smiled and brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"What's to prevent you from working here?" He asked.

"Well," Kathryn squirmed a bit. "It would be an inconvenience to you. I talk out loud and pace around sometimes. I'm sure it looks very strange, not to mention how annoying it probably is." Kathryn was searching for words, the conversation with Corey flashed through her mind and she felt a bit unsettled by it.

"This is how you do your research? It seems like that might tend to make you very unpopular at the library." Kathryn looked away.

"Well not when I'm doing the research portion so much. But I couldn't ask-"

"You aren't asking anything, I'm offering the comfort of my home and whatever benefit you might glean my collection. Do you think I offer that lightly?" There was a well-concealed hint of offense in his voice that made Kathryn squirm uncomfortably. In all honesty she didn't know why she was refusing.

"No, I don't. I have some previous commitments every week, if you don't mind me arriving at different times some evenings then I would be happy to accept."

"What other commitments?"

"A Karate class on Tuesdays and a belly dancing class on Thursdays. Usually Corey and I have dinner afterwards as well." Kathryn was cursing herself for waiting for his approval of her activities. She wasn't doing anything illegal or immoral and it wasn't up to him to give his permission.

"Strange, I never pictured you doing either one." He smiled slightly, but his eyes were appraising.

"Well, running alone after dark I wanted some kind of self-defense training. Belly dancing was Corey's idea, but it's fun and relaxing."

"You don't perform, do you?" The disapproval was back and she found that she didn't appreciate it very much.

"Of course not! Do you really think that I would dance like that in front of people?" She pulled away from him, her eyes challenging again.

"I think Miss James would and I wanted to reassure myself that she hadn't influenced you to as well." His eyes were holding hers and Kathryn told herself that she wasn't going to look away first, but it was obvious that he wasn't either. His hand closed around her wrist Kathryn had to suppress the urge to struggle. "We will work out a schedule that suits you." He said and Kathryn lowered her eyes, feeling unaccountably like a naughty child. She could tell that it was a compromise and that compromise was not something that came easily to him. Kathryn didn't resist as he pulled her close again, his hand firm on her wrist.

"Thank you." She raised her eyes more hesitantly this time and lightly brushed her lips over his. His mouth was aggressive, his grip tight on her wrist. Kathryn gasped and trembled a little, giving in to him. He let her go and his mouth softened again, then retreated when the mantle clock struck five. The message was not lost on Kathryn. He expected to be in control at all times and her mind spun as he led her back downstairs and finalized plans for the next evening. She wasn't afraid of him exactly, but she wasn't sure that she would be able to give up having her own way. If anyone could even make her consider it though, it was him.


	9. Temptations

9. Temptations

Kathryn was surprised how easily she settled into the new arrangement. His collection was unbelievable and she always got more accomplished than she thought she would. When he returned they usually spent time in conversation about what she had read. The meaning she took from it, and how she related it to other sources. He had very distinct views on history and always challenged her even if he agreed with her conclusions in theory.

He also forced her to rethink some things from time to time. She could accept that she was wrong, and was glad that he pointed it out. What was hard for her was realizing the number of small errors she had made in the previous books. Since they all built on each other she was probably going to have to decide if she going to rewrite history so to speak, or if she was going to continue on with the errors. She was almost certain that continuity would win. Facts would look like errors at this stage of the game and if she hadn't been called on them yet by someone she wasn't likely to be. Still, she found herself taking notes as he spoke, especially if he referenced a book or source. She got the feeling that he enjoyed these discussions as much as she did. He made her wonder sometimes though, there were events and periods that he talked about as if he was there. Kathryn told herself that he had read extensively and had a gift for description.

After the serious conversation was winding down he always pulled her close and their discussions would take on a lighter, more personal tone. Kathryn found that she longed for the contact, longed for the feeling of his mouth on hers and his pleasantly cool hands on her skin, in spite of all that desire though she would still tense and when she did he would back off. It surprised her a little bit. She may not have been out much but she wasn't completely hidden from humanity. She had expected some reproach; some sign of frustration, but there was none. She was grateful, and she never hesitated to curl up with him when he invited her, but it was a curious thing.

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LaCroix was pleased with how easily she had settled into a routine and he found that he looked forward to her presence. She wasn't flustered by his challenges to her stances on what she had read and while she was sometimes wrong it was usually because she had read and used less than accurate information to draw her conclusions. She was eager to learn from him and while he found himself wanting to tell her a great many things he was scrupulously careful to stick to what he could easily reference in books. She had an affect on him though, more than once he found himself embroidering bare fact with memory. Luckily he had caught himself before getting too far away from the narrow path he had set for himself.

He was also scrupulously careful about being well-sated before pulling her close. Her soft little quivers and hesitant touches made him almost ache for her. He liked the way she yielded to him and he wondered if he pressed her just a bit harder if she would surrender completely. His needs were met, as they always had been, but he was starting to see the very distinct difference between need and desire. He desired to take his release from her body, to taste the blood that had been teasing him with its sweet scent, to feel her against him without the encumbrance of clothing. He was sure that he would have all of those things; it was just a question of timing.

It was nearly two and a half weeks after she started working there when he returned to find her head down on the table. He stopped in the doorway and listened carefully to her breathing and realized she was asleep. It was somewhat later than usual and she had mentioned having some errands to do that day before her class. He toyed with waking her but settled on another course, perhaps it was less than elegant but it was entirely too tempting.

_Note: There is more, but I prefer know someone wants to read it before I post it here._

_psyche b._


	10. 10 Awareness & Abandon

10. Awareness and Abandon

Kathryn stretched comfortably and something about that didn't seem entirely right. She felt good, and she was surrounded by his soft, wonderful scent, but how could she be so comfortable sitting in a chair with her head on a table? And why did she smell him and not books and varnish? Her mind swam slowly and uneasily to wakefulness. When she opened her eyes Kathryn realized that her head was resting on his shoulder, she sat up quickly and realized she was stretched out in his bed.

"I didn't fall asleep in here." She was confused and on edge. At least now she could tell that she was dressed, except for her feet, which had been bare to start with. She backed away from him.

"I know." His voice was calm, soothing as he drew her back to lie down against him again. "Your head was on the table and you looked uncomfortable, so I brought you in here."

Kathryn's heart was still beating fast as she settled back against him and she could feel the tension in her body, but she had to admit that it was probably better than waking up with a crick in her neck. She shifted a little uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," She said finally. "My eyes just felt so tired and I thought that if I did nod off I would wake up when I heard you come back. I'm usually such a light sleeper. How did you get me in here anyway?"

"Carried you, of course." He looked amused at the question and Kathryn blushed. "Did you have a good nap?"

He was on his side, facing her. One hand rested lightly on her waist. Kathryn realized he was wearing some kind of silky lounging pajamas. It unsettled her a bit, but he also looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

"Well, better than I would have with my head on the table," Kathryn managed a small laugh and felt some of the tension leave her body. "I didn't mean to put you to such trouble though. You could have just woke me." She found she still couldn't meet his eyes.

"What trouble would that be? You weigh hardly anything." He moved a few strands of hair from her face and Kathryn wondered if he had taken her hair down or if she had before nodding off. She wasn't quite awake enough to remember and it didn't really matter all that much to her.

"I guess I'm just a little surprised is all." Kathryn felt the flush rise to her face again and he pulled her close again. She found it very easy to settle against his chest again until the oxford shirt she was wearing over her tank top seemed to catch around her. She sat up and started to right it until he put his hands over hers.

"You'll be more comfortable without it." His mouth was close to her ear. She knew he was right, but taking it off seemed very hard to do. She wasn't naked underneath and she was under the covers. She bit her lower lip and let him take it off of her. She settled back against him again. "Better?" He asked when she relaxed against him again.

"Yes." She said softly. She had to admit, the feeling of him and the silky sheets against her skin was very relaxing.

"Good. I would have taken it off of you earlier, but I was afraid of waking you." He kissed her softly and Kathryn wondered how she would have taken that if she had awakened to find him undressing her.

"How long was I asleep?" She sighed and felt the tension leave her body.

"About an hour that I know of. Were you able to get anything done before you nodded off?" One hand moved down over her hip to her thigh and then back to her waist and up over her back.

"Not really, my father called just as I was really getting started." She tensed as his fingers stroked over her bare shoulders softly and then relaxed again.

"Not a pleasant conversation?" His fingers massaged her neck lightly and she pressed closer, her back arching.

"My first instinct is to say no, but I keep telling myself he's just acting like a parent. Apparently Corey called him and my grandmother to say how concerned she is that I'm spending so much time with you." Kathryn could feel him tense for a split second before he relaxed again.

"Did she indeed." Was all he said, she could tell that he wasn't happy though.

"She did, and she's very lucky I decided to calm down before talking to her. Anyway, Grandmother is completely unconcerned, partially because she got the information from Corey and partially because from what I've told her about you she thinks I should spend more time with you. Daddy gave me the third degree though." Kathryn found that she was enjoying this new closeness.

"No wonder you fell asleep, that must have been draining." His hand moved down over her back again.

"I've watched him in court enough to know what to expect from one of his cross examinations." She laughed softly and tensed slightly as his hand moved under the hem of the tank top, caressing her back lightly. "He's tough, but I'm pretty tough myself. At least he can't threaten to send to me to convent school in Switzerland now."

"Is he satisfied with your answers?" His fingers moved softly.

"I think so, I'm pretty sure that I planted enough reasonable doubt about Corey as a source to make him think twice about what she said. And I have Mira on my side, so she'll work on him too." Kathryn started to wonder how she was going to force herself to move to go home.

"Mira?" His lips were close to her ear.

"My stepmother. She can come across as not very bright and she's still a little overimpressed with being Mrs. Thomas Jefferson Paige III, but she's kind of sweet in a way." Kathryn allowed her fingers to roam lightly over his chest, tracing the planes of his body through the light fabric.

"Why do I know his name?" His hand moved down over her hip to her thigh and the span of his hand made her feel small again.

"You might have heard of his law firm, Paige, Kendall and Pierce. They have offices in several cities but they're based in Boston." She arched a little as his thumb brushed a sensitive spot near her navel, trying to suppress the gasp it drew.

"Ah yes. Lawyers for old money, and new if there's enough of it." She thought she heard the little smile in his voice, his thumb found the same spot again before moving on, making Kathryn tremble.

"That's them." She heard the little quiver in her voice, his fingertip traced the lower margin of her ribcage lightly as his hand moved to her back again. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, her hardening nipples pressed against her bra.

"No wonder he worries about you associating with the wrong sort." His lips found hers, his tongue claiming her mouth. Kathryn pressed against him, moaning softly, stroking his tongue softly with hers. The tremor that raced through her was too strong to be suppressed. He held her tightly and then pressed her onto her back. Her fingers stroked his arm.

"Do I still make you nervous?" He asked, looking down at her, his lips feathering softly over hers.

"S-sometimes." Kathryn blushed and turned away when she heard the tremor in her voice.

"Now?" His mouth traveled down the exposed side of her neck to the hollow of her throat.

"Yes." Her voice was tiny, her face turned toward his arm. She didn't want to admit it, but if he was asking a question like that he knew the answer already.

His lips moved with a teasing gentleness over hers and Kathryn reached out to his tongue with hers. The hand under her shirt moving down to circle one fingertip around her navel and then lower. She heard herself whimper softly against his mouth as he moved over hers, sliding her leggings down and tossing them aside. Bringing both hands up the sides of her body, raising the tank top. His mouth moved to the spot between her breasts when her pulled it over her head, tossing it aside as well. Kathryn started to shiver, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He tossed his pajama top onto the foot of the bed and held her against his chest again. Kathryn found she could barely breath as his hands roamed her newly exposed skin. She pressed against him, her fingers moving over his defined chest and stomach. His mouth had possession of hers completely and she felt her hard nipples pressing into his side. Eventually she stopped trembling and each soft touch made her arch against his hands.

He unhooked her bra and moved over her again. She tensed as he slid the straps over her shoulders, his mouth moved down the side of her neck again, making her moan and arch. His fingers lightly stroked her nipples as he took the bra away. Kathryn's head was spinning as his head moved down. She gasped sharply as his tongue teased her right nipple, his fingers gently rolling and pulling the other one. Her back arched tightly and her fingers moved through his short-cropped hair, her nails scraping his scalp lightly. He growled, his mouth taking on a new firmness. Kathryn jumped and cried out when she felt his teeth scratch painfully next to the sensitive bud, he held her still until she relaxed again, his mouth suckling gently and then moving to her other breast. This time there was no sharp pain, just his tongue swirling around her already hard nipple, making it engorge even further.

His hands moved down her body, sliding her panties down and tossing them aside. Kathryn tensed and retreated from him, her legs pressed tightly together. His hands stopped her and held her firmly. She trembled and groaned as his thumb caressed the front of her trimmed mound, the tension still in her legs as he opened them. His tongue trailed down to her navel, circling it and then moving lower on her stomach. His fingers traced her tender outer lips softly, drawing a sharp whimper of pleasure and need. Kathryn felt her body relax and she opened herself a little wider.

His head moved down, soft tongue dipping inside and exploring her wet slit. Kathryn cried out, jumping as it made contact with the sensitive nub that was hidden deep inside those folds. He held her still and probed her tight opening gently. She was so close, her hips rocking against his mouth, feeling a soft tug as his tongue pressed against her membranes. Kathryn whimpered with need when he found the nub of her pleasure again, stroking it with his tongue. She cried out as her release took over, sending shock waves through her whole body. His tongue lapped at her trickling juices until the tension in her muscles started to relax.

Slowly he moved back up her body, stopping to sweep his tongue over her injured nipple softly. He pulled her close and she curled up into him, feeling a deep blush color her cheeks at her complete loss of inhibition. His mouth found hers and Kathryn's eyes went wide before closing when she realized she could taste her juices and what she thought was a trace of her blood mingled on his lips. She shivered and he pulled the comforter around her shoulders.

Kathryn's eyes closed and she felt herself melt against him, his hand massaging her back lightly.

"So passionate." He whispered softly next to her ear. Kathryn felt the blush come back to her cheeks again and she arched closer against him.

"I think you deserve the credit for that." She murmured against his chest, feeling the rumble of his chuckle again.

Kathryn didn't know how long she stayed there, enjoying the deep relaxation in a half-doze. Her hand moved languidly over his chest and his fingers explored her skin, adding to the pleasant sensation of absolute comfort.

"What time is it?" She asked finally, her voice still soft and dreamy.

"Why?" His fingers moved her hair out of her face.

"Because, if I lay here too much longer I'm going to fall asleep." Kathryn arched her back as his fingernails trailed lightly down her spine. He lifted her chin and she found herself looking into his eyes. The only way she could describe his expression was that of someone who had seen something slightly distasteful.

"Do you honestly believe that I would bring you to my bed and then send you out into the cold alone?" It was less a question and more an accusation. Kathryn squirmed uncomfortably under his steady gaze.

"I didn't mean it that way. It's just that I didn't even bring a toothbrush with me. I wasn't expecting to – to need it." She blushed and he kissed her softly.

"You will have to learn to trust in my ability to plan. Go to sleep Kathryn, tomorrow is taken care of." He held her close and she felt herself melting again. Kathryn knew that she wouldn't need much more encouragement for sleep. She turned so that her back was pressed against his chest, her knees drawn up, and his arm around her waist.

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LaCroix watched her breathing slowly shift from relaxed but awake to the deep, regular pattern of sleep. The hypnotic scent of her blood from the small wound on her breast mixed with the scent of her excitement and release and all of that with the scent of sweet, ripe fruit that always surrounded her. He stood to undress fully and then turned out the light, his eyes on her the whole time. She sighed softly as she settled back against him in the darkness.

He had been mildly surprised that she hadn't questioned the small wound, either when he made it or after. Inexperienced as she was she probably knew that bloodletting was not a usual occurrence during intimacy. LaCroix stroked her hip softly and she turned to face him, snuggling close against his chest. He held her close and waited until her sleep deepened again before reaching across the tenuous link. She whimpered softly and her body tensed against his but she didn't wake as her will surrendered without the tears and struggle of the first time. The suggestions he planted were simple, but they would protect her from the truth until he was ready for her to know. She would not remember him making wounds on her body. She would ignore their existence in every way but one. She would keep them covered. She shuddered as he retreated and he stroked her back softly until she settled.

In honest moments he knew the decision had been made even before she started working on her research there. He was not about to let her go, and not about to let her wither away in the brief span of years given to mortals. He would allow her to finish the book, and he wanted her to do that without the interference of acclimating to eternity and without the chance that her unconscious might make the book more accurate. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders and she sighed softly in her sleep.

His hand stroked her back absently and LaCroix wondered how many had tried unsuccessfully to melt the glacier that had always surrounded his emotions. There was no way to count really, there had been too many years and too many places and too many people who had wanted something from him. The thing that he realized was that she hadn't melted anything.

He had found himself looking at the swirl and crush of humanity in the club the night before, trying to feel something, anything, for any one of them and he found that there was nothing there. They were the means to his survival, nothing more. He had chosen one that physically resembled Kathryn, and even as she struggled and begged for her life there was nothing, other than the satiety that came with feeding. He realized that she had simply walked into the one spot of warmth he had left and curled up comfortably, waiting for him to join her.

Kathryn made a soft whimpering-mewling sound and his arms tightened around her, she trembled and then gripped him tightly for a moment before settling again. That was something else that he had noticed about her, she reached the protector in him without even trying and she had been doing from the first night he met her. It was well after sunrise and he felt his own deep sleep stealing over him. He moved her body carefully and spooned behind her, one arm still around her waist.


	11. 11 Awakenings

11. Awakenings

Kathryn opened her eyes, or thought she did. The pitch darkness that surrounded her wasn't altered, no matter if her eyes felt open or closed. As her awareness of her own body grew, she could tell that she was naked except for the silky sheet that she was wrapped in. Kathryn sat up quickly, her mind not yet awake. She reached out, feeling for something, anything other than herself and the field of silk. Her hands met empty air and her breaths came in sharp gasps. Her movements grew more frantic.

"Kathryn?" His voice was gravelly from sleep.

"Lucien?" Her voice sounded tremulous to her own ears but she remembered now where she was. She reached out to the direction of his voice. His hand closed around her wrist and guided her back to his arms again. Kathryn trembled a little and pressed close, taking comfort from the cool sensation of his skin.

"What's wrong?" He sounded more awake now. His arms closed over her and Kathryn felt safe and engulfed.

"Nothing I guess. I woke up and it was so dark I didn't know where I was for a minute. I just got a little scared." She relaxed.

"Did you need or want anything?" He kissed the top of her head softly.

"Kind of," She squirmed a little, she felt herself blushing. "I'm not sure if I can find the bathroom in the complete dark."

"Ah yes." He put the light on and Kathryn sat up, considering if there were any convenient articles of clothing or if she should just wrap up in the comforter.

"Anything wrong?" His smile was knowing and just a little amused. Thankfully she spotted the top half of his lounging pajamas discarded at the foot of the bed. She grabbed it and quickly wrapped it around herself like a robe as she slid out of bed.

"No." She smiled and hurried out of the room.

Logically, she knew that it didn't make much sense to be shy about him seeing her now. Logic didn't keep her knees from shaking at the thought of those intense blue eyes watching her every curve as she crossed the room. She knew she was fit and nicely put together, but there were times he could make her feel naked when she was fully clothed. She was sure that time would ease her fear of his appraisals. That was something that surprised her groggy mind, the certainty of the time needed for that shift to happen.

When she got back into the bedroom Kathryn realized that she was alone. She collected her clothes and brought them to her side of the bed before slipping under the covers again with his shirt still wrapped around her. Less than a minute later he returned to the room again. Kathryn wasn't one to stare usually, but she hadn't expected him to be naked either. She was sure that her blush was as deep as the merlot of the sheets when she turned away. He laughed softly and pulled her close again.

"Are you cold?" He asked, fingering the collar of the garment.

"No, I just thought that it might be easier than searching for something to walk to the shower in later." She was still blushing, but his closeness was making her relax again.

"Maybe you didn't notice, I have only the tub. If you're not cold though, this seems rather extraneous, don't you think?" He slipped his fingers inside the wide neckline and slipped it over first one of her shoulders and then the other. Kathryn knew that he would get his way and she did have the covers now. She found she couldn't say anything, but she sat up and put her back to him, slipping it off the rest of the way. He took it from her hand and deposited it out of her reach before gathering her back into his arms.

"Much better." He murmured softly, turning the lights out again. He stroked her bare hip before he fell asleep again.

Kathryn lay drifting between sleep and wakefulness on his shoulder. She didn't think of herself as a prude or a person who was naïve about anatomy, female or male. Between the Internet, biology classes, and art museums she doubted that anyone could be completely unaware of the appearance of the opposite sex. What was keeping Kathryn's mind spinning was his size, or the way she perceived his size.

She had been surprised, she told herself. When she was barefoot he was a foot taller than she was and she didn't even want to venture a guess about how much he outweighed her by. She had just let her surprise and her half-sleeping imagination take over. He shifted slightly and Kathryn turned her back to his chest again. She sighed softly and nodded off.

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LaCroix woke before she did. He could tell that it was just after sunset, and he could see the outline of her soft curves next to him in the darkness. Her wonderful scent surrounded him, sharpening his hunger. He left her carefully, listening for any change in her breathing or other sign of her waking. When he was satisfied that she was sleeping soundly he went to the small kitchen and drained three large glasses in rapid succession and then took a fourth more slowly. He listened for any sign of movement from the bedroom but heard nothing. He knew that she had been awake longer than he had the second time, though what had kept her awake was not apparent. He would have to ask if the darkness bothered her. To him it wasn't complete, but to mortal eyes it might be disorienting.

LaCroix lingered over the last few swallows, feeling sated enough to be as careful as he would have to be with her. With the small taste he had last night he knew that it would be very easy to get carried away in that rich, complex blood of hers and he was not ready to bring her across yet. He lingered also because he knew that he was going to hurt her, and even though he knew it couldn't be helped he felt an edge of guilt about it. Her body would learn to accept his, the fact that she seemed very petite everywhere might make that a longer process than usual, but it would happen. He washed the glass and dried it with a soft towel. He listened again and found her still deeply sleeping.

He smiled and slipped into bed next to her again, enjoying the way she curled up against him.


	12. Passion & Pain

12. Passion and Pain

Kathryn woke slowly and without the fear that had accompanied her previous waking. This time there was a dim light on and he held her close, his hand cupping her bottom possessively. She felt herself blush a little as she squirmed.

"So you are awake." He spoke softly and she could hear the little smile in his voice. She smiled and kissed him, her tongue reaching out hesitantly at first. She sighed and felt herself yield as he asserted himself in the kiss, Kathryn shivered as she got the sense that he would always be in control.

"Do I take it you slept well, then?" He moved her slightly, turning so he was laying on his side, facing her.

"Surprisingly enough, yes." She saw the mild look of surprise and rushed on. "Usually I can't sleep in an unfamiliar place. I hear every little noise and jump at every odd shadow. It took me a week to be able to sleep in my own house."

"And you weren't troubled by noises or shadows here?" He brushed a few stray hairs from her face in what had become a familiar gesture.

"No. I don't think I've ever been in a room that was quite so dark, but I felt safe from the rest of the world." Kathryn lowered her eyes as she said it, one finger tracing lightly over his chest.

"Does the darkness bother you?" He lifted her chin.

"It's a little unnerving right now, but it could become familiar, if I were to stay again at some point." She was choosing her words carefully and trying not to squirm next to him. Kathryn dearly hoped that's what he would want.

"If? At some point? Do you have regrets Kathryn?" His arm went around her waist and pulled her closer, she could hear the concern in his voice.

"No, not at all." She pressed closer and relaxed. "I just don't want to make assumptions about what you want or how you feel about having me here." She was glad he couldn't see her blush, though she wondered if his cool skin could sense the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks. He chuckled softly.

"You do worry a great deal, don't you?" His mouth moved over her shoulder and Kathryn arched her head back, his mouth taking a languorous path back to hers. She sighed against his lips, arching to his teasing tongue. His hand rested on the narrowest part of her waist, moving slowly to find and tease her nipple into full erection. Kathryn felt the immediate response in her body and the desire that accompanied it, but the uncertainty of the night before had come back as well. He moved forward and she felt his hardness brush against her. Kathryn tensed and drew a sharp breath before moving her hips away from his. As soon as she did she regretted it.

"I'm sorry-" She started, her eyes down. His finger touching her lips lightly stopped her words.

"Kathryn, if you ask me to, I will leave you alone to dress and we will go on as we were before." She trembled softly at the sincerity she heard in his voice. Kathryn moved forward and nestled against him again, he held her close.

"You asked if I have regrets. I regret that I don't know how not to be nervous and that I don't know how to please you." She was blinking back tears. Her body was aching for his touch and apprehensive about it at the same time. Being with him felt more right than anything she could imagine and yet his heated touches scared her.

"Stop thinking Kathryn." He lifted her chin and his lips found hers, softly at first and then in a firm, claiming kiss. Kathryn felt herself yield, her nipples hardened against his chest. He looked down into her eyes after his lips broke contact, his fingers toying lightly with one of her firm nipples, drawing a soft, gasping moan. "Should I go?"

"N-no." Her voice was small, and it trembled from desire and the emotion that underlayed it. He pressed her onto her back and his tongue swirled over her nipple, sucking softly. Kathryn felt her body tense with pleasure. One hand held the back of his head, the other stroked down his neck and over his shoulders, biting her lip and moaning softly. She gripped his shoulder tightly as the sensations became firmer, bordering on pain. She cried out when that border was breached and his teeth grasped the sensitive nub of flesh. She whimpered for a moment and then his mouth softened again, Kathryn felt herself relax.

One hand moved down her body, his fingertips brushing over her skin, teasing the places that made her squirm before moving on. His tongue trailed down into the valley between her breasts, taking the other nipple roughly, making Kathryn cry out. She pressed her legs tightly together and felt the wetness that was already gathered there. When his hand urged her legs apart she only hesitated a moment. The touch of his cool skin on her heated, moist outer lips made her gasp and retreat before pressing against his hand again. His mouth found hers as his fingers insinuated themselves into her wet folds, exploring each sensitive surface. Her hands moved over his chest and down to his stomach, opening herself wider to his gentle probing, her hips rocking, her mouth as hungry as his was.

Kathryn tensed when a fingertip pressed against her tight, slick entrance. She retreated slightly but he was insistent and she felt it slide inside of her. She groaned and felt a shudder run through her body, her muscles tight around it. For a few minutes she was lost in the sensations, her hips rocking. She was so close when her hand drifted a little further down his body, her fingertips making light contact with his hard shaft. He moaned against her mouth and shifted, letting her hand explore him more fully.

She whimpered sharply when he pressed a second finger into her tight passage. Kathryn felt herself try to slide back but he held her still. He pressed at the resisting membrane inside of her, exploring it carefully. She felt herself relax again, the pleasure overtaking the discomfort of being opened. Kathryn moved her hips against his hand and she stroked him more boldly. His mouth traveled down the side of her neck, his teeth nipping her skin just enough to make her gasp and tense around his fingers. She was so close now, needing her release. His thumb rubbed the nub of her pleasure and she cried out, pressing down against his hand.

"Not yet." He whispered and took his hand away. Kathryn whimpered, frustrated. He wrapped her hand around his shaft and Kathryn tensed again when she realized that her fingers weren't even close to meeting around his thickness. When she heard him moan she stroked his length, letting him guide her movements at first and then letting his expressions of pleasure show her what he enjoyed. She could feel the tension building in his body when he took her hand away, pinning it next to her head. His mouth was hard and hungry on hers.

Kathryn whimpered sharply and struggled when the pressure on her wrist became painful. He released her and his mouth softened. His tongue played with hers teasingly as he moved between her legs. Kathryn opened herself to him, even though her fear had returned with sharp clarity. He pressed her knees back, opening her wider. When the swollen head of his erection pressed against her tight entrance Kathryn tensed, her eyes wide and frightened. He backed away for a moment, his lips finding hers again before he pressed forward slowly.

Kathryn tried to relax, but even though he moved slowly the sensation of being torn was all that registered. Her whimpers turned to cries of pain as he pressed deeper, she could feel him rubbing the nub of her pleasure softly, his lips moved over her mouth and neck and she tried to focus on those sensations but the pain overwhelmed her for a moment.

"I can't, please-" He stopped and held her still. His mouth soft on hers, stopping her words. Her body trembled under his.

"You already have, relax Kathryn." He whispered softly, his voice soothing. His thumb softly rubbing just above her pubic bone. She felt some of the painful tension leaving her body.

He pressed forward again slowly until he was buried as deeply inside her as her body would allow. Kathryn was trying not to sob, her nails bit into his forearm. Slowly, she felt the rest of the tension easing. She began to feel the sensations of his lips against her skin. His finger pressed a little harder on her hidden button, drawing a whimpering moan as she tensed around him.

She began to seek his mouth with hers and she felt her need building again. Tentatively she rocked her hips under him. The pain was still there, but it was becoming less important than the pleasure. His arms slid under her and her legs wrapped around his waist. He growled next to her ear and she raked her nails over his shoulders and back. His movements intensifying, bringing her so close, finally the pleasure and need for release overtook her. He pressed deep inside her, holding her tightly, lifting her. His roar frightened Kathryn and her nails dug into his back and his mouth came down on her neck at the point where it joined her shoulder. The pain jarred her and she cried out, struggling and pressing against his shoulders. He held her tightly, still buried deep inside her. Kathryn felt her struggles weaken and a feeling of floating overtake her as he laid her back against the cool sheets.

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LaCroix had taken more of her blood than he initially intended, but the flavor and her passion had been intoxicating. Her heartbeat was strong and steady though and he knew he hadn't taken enough to harm her. She whimpered sharply when he pulled out of her and he could see the blood that coated his skin and the tears that streaked her cheeks. He could tell she was unconscious for the moment and he held her mind there, a bit surprised that her will didn't surface and fight him. He listened to her heartbeat for a moment more and then started drawing a bath, cleaning himself off in the process. When he returned, he found her curled up tightly on her side a trickle of blood leaking from between her legs. He moved her gently, cleaning the blood from her skin and then putting his mouth over her entrance. She whined softly, tensing and trying to retreat for a moment. He held her still and her struggles ceased.

Their link was stronger now and as his tongue moved gently he renewed the suggestions about the wounds. He thought about removing the memory of how painful this had been for her, but rejected it. If it dampened her passion he would try, but he still wasn't certain how much he trusted her suggestibility. When the flow of her blood stopped to a slow ooze her moved next to her again, gently cleaning off the wounds on her neck and gathering her into his arms. Once she was resting against him, he released the pressure on her mind that was keeping her unconscious.

LaCroix turned the lights up a bit more and realized that he had also been rougher than he had intended. There was a deep purple bruise forming on her neck and another on her wrist. It unsettled him that she took so much of his self control. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up at him before slipping into a light sleep again. He knew she was his, as certainly as any object he had ever owned, or anyone he had ever taken as his own, and he knew that any questions he had harbored about that had just been swept away by those fluttering lashes. His arms tightened around her possessively.


	13. Baths & Bruises

13. Baths and Bruises

Kathryn woke slowly and realized she was moving, being carried. She opened her eyes and tightened her limp arm around his neck.

"What's going on?" She asked, her voice groggy and uncertain.

"I thought you might enjoy a bath." He smiled down at her and Kathryn relaxed again.

"You could have just woke me." She blushed when he set her on her feet again, realizing as she stepped into the tub that aching pain radiated from between her legs. She winced a little as she settled in the water.

"You were sleeping so peacefully though." He got in behind her, pulling her back against his chest. Kathryn sat with her knees raised, her arms covering her breasts. She still wasn't comfortable with him seeing her exposed. He chuckled softly, kissing the side of her head and slipping an arm around her shoulders. The heat of the water and the gentle surging jets along with his closeness made her body feel limp. She turned slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Her eyelids still felt heavy as she looked more closely at the tub. It looked like it would easily accommodate four people and it was deeper than an ordinary tub. She noticed that he could stretch out comfortably in it though.

"This is incredible." She said softly, feeling herself relaxing.

"And to think, people are willing to give up all this pleasure for expedience." His hands caressed her arms and shoulders. She stretched out a little more, leaning back into him.

"I don't know if a shower is _just_ expedience though. When I redid the bathroom I went with a steam shower with all the body sprays. Sitting in there after a run can feel wonderful too." Kathryn sighed, her eyes closing again. Her hands stroking his legs and thighs softly.

"I'm a bit surprised you remodeled so extensively. What little I've seen of your house it looked so antique." His hands stroked over the column of her neck and then down further on her chest, her eyes fluttered a little as her nipples reacted.

"The house was built in 1903, and for the most part I just restored it. The bathroom was this awful little room that wasn't big enough to change your mind in though. I sacrificed a tiny guest room and got a good sized bathroom and small dressing room out of it." His hands moved down, caressing her breasts. Kathryn tensed and then relaxed again, sighing softly.

"You're more popular than you lead people to believe." He said. Kathryn laughed softly.

"I'm a hack. I just happen to be a popular hack that made good investments." She blushed a little. His hands moved over her shoulders again. Her fingers traced lightly over his legs, enjoying the sensations of his touch and the sounds of the softly surging water. She moved her head and felt the world spin around her. She groaned softly.

"I need a towel." She moved forward, causing the world to swim around her again. His hand gripped her shoulder.

"Why?" He held her firmly and she brushed at his hand, trying to orient herself and escape at the same time.

"Please, I'm really lightheaded. I haven't eaten in awhile, I just need some juice or something." One arm went around her shoulders and the other around her waist, holding her still. She began to feel trapped and she struggled, starting to feel panic rising.

"Kathryn," His voice was soft but forceful-sounding. He waiting until she stopped struggling before he spoke again, but Kathryn could still feel herself trembling. "If you're lightheaded you'll be unstable on your feet. You'll stay here, I'll be right back." His voice was calm but his arms didn't relax around her until Kathryn nodded in agreement.

He ran a towel over his body and returned a few minutes later with a glass wine carafe filled with orange juice and a goblet. He filled the glass and handed it to her. Kathryn accepted it carefully and her hands trembled as she drank. He set the carafe on the tub surround and got in behind her again. She finished the glass and then refilled it, drinking more slowly this time.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I get a little weird when my blood sugar gets too low." He drew her back against him again and she finished the second glass. He refilled it again and Kathryn noticed that the tremor had left her hands.

"It's alright." His fingers traveled lightly through her hair. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, some. This is an awfully nice glass for orange juice in the bathtub." She looked up at him and saw an eyebrow raise as he looked down at her.

"You would have preferred the plastic bottle and a long straw?" His eyebrow arched.

"Of course not, at this time of evening I usually just stick a funnel in my mouth and pour." Her eyes locked with his, a small smile on her lips.

"That quick tongue may get you in trouble one day." He pinched her nipples firmly and Kathryn nearly dropped the glass when the mixture of pleasure and pain hit her. His mouth came down on hers again when she surrendered his fingers relaxed, caressing softly before retreating.

"What are your plans this evening?" His hands worked through her hair, starting to wet it. She tried to catch her breath and finished the last of the juice in the glass.

"Well, I should go home." She said finally. Kathryn didn't really fear his reaction, but she could tell that he wasn't going to like the idea of her leaving.

"Oh? To get something you need?" The tone was casual, but it was a forced casual.

"I have a few things to do, and I don't want you to get tired of my company." Those things were absolutely true, but it was also true that she would miss him and she wasn't entirely sure she cared to spend the whole night and day alone until she could come back. He took the empty glass and set it next to the carafe.

"Slide forward." She moved quickly and winced, the painful ache jarring her. He tilted her head back. He started pouring water over her hair from a pitcher. She sighed when he started working softly scented shampoo through it. "But you will be back to do a bit more research?" He rinsed her hair and started washing her with a sponge.

"I don't know." Kathryn found she had a very hard time thinking of reasons _not_ to come back. She let him move her body, enjoying his gentle but thorough ministrations. "I have to call my father again, just to make sure that he hasn't gotten any more phone calls from a certain someone, and I'm sure that Corey will want to know that I'm alive."

"She believes you wouldn't be?" There was a note of surprise in his voice.

"She has all kinds of strange ideas." Kathryn waved her hand dismissively. "She'll have a million questions and I'll answer two of them but it would be mean to let her worry."

He moved around her and pressed her back. Kathryn blushed and looked away. His hand worked from her feet up to her upper thighs before opening her legs wider. She retreated as much as she could. His mouth found hers as his fingers rubbed gently. She winced and whimpered, crying out sharply as one finger gently probed her entrance. He caressed the tiny button that nestled in her folds before taking his hand away, and then his lips. He moved behind her again and Kathryn curled up against his chest, quivering and trying to regain her composure again.

"You will heal Kathryn." His voice was reassuring, as were his hands stroking her back. She felt herself relaxing again.

"I know," Her arms slipped around him again, her legs relaxing.

"And you will heal as well here as at home." Kathryn looked up at him and kissed his collarbone lightly, smiling a bit.

"You're very used to getting your own way, aren't you?" She was unable to keep the little smile off of her face.

"Of course," He chuckled softly and stroked her cheek. "Though thus far you have proved to be much more challenging than I would have first thought."

"I don't feel very challenging right now," She blushed a little and picked up the sponge and bath gel.

"So you will come back?" He handed her a different bath gel and relaxed when she started washing him.

"I'll come back." His eyes closed and he relaxed, moving from time to time to expose a new area. "I'm not sure about staying though. I have belly dancing tomorrow night and I know Corey will want to get some dinner after." He hand stopped on his lower stomach and he gripped her wrist, pushing it lower. She blushed but allowed him to guide her movements. He released her hand and pulled her back against his chest again.

"We will deal with tomorrow when it comes." His lips brushed the bruise on her shoulder and Kathryn stiffened immediately, sliding her hand over it. "Kathryn-"

"Please, don't say anything. It's just sore. It'll heal too." She smiled and kissed him softly.

"So you remember how it happened?" His eyes had narrowed slightly and for some reason that made Kathryn nervous.

"That's an odd question. You bit me." His eyes widened. "Why do you look so shocked? I wasn't quite that out of it. Corey has marks all the time, she never said they hurt, but I never asked either."

He tilted her head and moved his mouth over the same spot on the other side of her neck. Kathryn moaned when his teeth grazed her skin lightly, her body relaxed against him.

"Will you be sharing that mark with her?" His mouth moved up the side of her neck, along her jaw and finally lightly over her lips.

"Of course not! Honestly I think you have strange ideas sometimes too." She laughed, perfectly comfortable in the moment.

"Perhaps I do." He stroked her cheek softly, looking and feeling more relaxed against her body. He was a study in subtleties, but she was starting to pick up on his cues.

"Why isn't the water cold by now?" She looked a bit confused. She had noticed that the water temperature hadn't really changed since they got in. Her fingertips were turning into little prunes but the water was still deliciously hot.

"It's heated as it's recirculated. I dislike having to time the length of my soak to the length of time the water stays the right temperature." One of his hands stroked her side lightly.

"That's absolutely brilliant. I guess if the Romans had hot baths why not?" She gripped his hand as it rested on her stomach, lacing her fingers with his.

"More research for your book?" She heard the mild note of surprise in his voice.

"No, not specifically but I read about it somewhere and it stuck. The book said it had something to do with convection I think. Something about cooler water sinking and warmer water rising and that kept it circulating. I think it was convection, I don't remember now. I'm too relaxed." She laughed softly.

"You don't forget much do you?" Kathryn's eyes were closed, but she could hear the little smile on his lips.

"Not usually, no. I am getting pretty hungry though. I think I should eat something and get home so I can get back at a reasonable time." She shifted and he gripped her hand for a moment, holding her close.

"Even if the time is unreasonable, you will still return." He said, raising her chin and looking into her eyes.

"I will." Kathryn could hear the command and her simple, immediate response to it confused her. She told herself that she was still off balance from the events of the last few hours. He kissed her lightly and helped her out of the tub, wrapping one warmed towel around her body and offering her another for her hair.

"There are several boxes in the dressing room to the right. Everything in them is yours and should fit properly." He smiled and Kathryn shook her head a little.

"You'll spoil me." She stood on her tiptoes and swirled her tongue softly in the hollow of his throat.

"Careful girl, I may not allow you to leave." He growled softly, his lips coming down on hers. Kathryn felt a shiver race through her body.

"Not my fault, that's all I could reach. I'm short you know." She smiled and slipped out of his arms.


	14. Investigation & Inspiration

14. Investigation and Inspiration

There were things about the clothing he chose for her that didn't surprise Kathryn at all, like the fact that it was all very good quality. It was much better than she would have chosen for herself for an ordinary day. The colors suited her perfectly, but even in the short time she had known him it was obvious that he had exceptional taste for a man. What she found surprising was that everything fit perfectly. Her height and slim frame meant that even in specialty shops sleeves were too long, waistlines fell around her hips and 'small' was baggy. Either he was very skilled at choosing women's clothing or he had gotten very lucky. Even the matching bra and panties fit perfectly. Once she emerged from dressing he looked at her appraisingly for a moment and then nodded approval. Kathryn couldn't help but blush.

She thought about asking how long he had had these things, but decided against it. They were obviously all new so she didn't think they had belonged to someone else who left quickly. There was a part of her was curious how long he had been preparing for her to spend the night, but in the end she decided that she would be more content thinking of the night before as happy coincidence, not a planned conquest.

When the car arrived at her house Kathryn found an unfamiliar vehicle in her driveway and a man searching around on her porch. She was out of the car as soon as it stopped, not bothering to wait for the driver.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Kathryn could hear the driver hurrying after her, but she ignored him.

"Now hold on a minute, Miss. I'm a cop." The way he said it, it sounded as if it should explain everything.

"I'm Kathryn Paige and I happen to own this house, so I'll go back to my original question. What the hell are you doing?" Kathryn placed herself between him and the door, her arms were crossed and she fixed him with a cold stare. The man looked from her to the driver, who was holding a cell phone. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, renewing her feeling of weakness from earlier, but she wasn't about to waiver in front of him.

"Look, I'm Detective Bronte, maybe we could go inside and-"

"Oh I don't think so, not unless you have a warrant." Kathryn noticed how rumpled-looking he was and how the exchange seemed to be taxing him. That didn't make her want to back down either.

"Miss, this is unofficial."

"Oh that's comforting. The police are allowed to enter your home without a warrant as long as it's unofficial. You were obviously looking for a key, if you didn't find one were you going to break in?"

"Miss Paige, please." The man looked tired now. "Corrina James said you might be in trouble. She couldn't file a report because you haven't been missing for seventy-two hours so I said I would check on you for her." Kathryn studied him for a moment. The porchlight was harsh and unforgiving, but she could clearly see the dark circles under his eyes and the drawn look about him.

"I wasn't missing, she was overreacting. Corey's a friend of yours as well I take it." Kathryn's voice had softened a bit.

"You might say that." He looked a little embarrassed. "She was worried and I know it's not strictly kosher but she said you kept a key around here somewhere."

"Well, as you can see I'm fine, and I'll be calling Corey." She relaxed her posture a little.

"Right, well have a good night Miss Paige." He smiled a little and turned to go.

"I'm sure your wife didn't appreciate you running around with Corey." Kathryn felt the mean little smile tug at the corners of her mouth. He turned again and looked as if someone had struck him. "Don't look so shocked. Taken together, the way you reacted when I mentioned your relationship with Corey, the tan line where a wedding band was until very recently and the fact that you look like you slept in those clothes, the picture was obvious really. I hope you have a better poker face with your suspects."

"She didn't know. Corey I mean." She could see that he wanted to explain.

"You don't need to justify yourself to me. What you do with another consenting adult is none of my business. Drive safely." She smiled sweetly and watched him get in his car before picking up the newspaper and getting the key from its hiding place under the porch swing.

"Come on inside." She said to the driver. "It's too cold to sit out here."

He followed a bit reluctantly, still holding his cell phone. She let him into the kitchen and set the paper on the table.

"Coffee?" She asked.

"I'm not sure if Mr. LaCroix would want me to even be in here. I know he wouldn't want me to have coffee with you." She could tell he was nervous. "I should call him about that cop too."

"Oh don't bother him with that now, the whole thing is over. I'll tell him about it later tonight. And you wouldn't be having coffee with me; I've got a few things to do. I thought you might like something while you wait." She took a mug and the coffee out of the cupboard and put fresh water in the machine. "If you change your mind, it's one of those one-cup machines so the packet goes in the top and just press the button. Milk is in the fridge; sugar is on the table, and feel free to read the paper."

"Thank you." He still looked nervous, but at least he sat down and started scanning the front page. Kathryn went upstairs to make her calls, that way she could lay down for a few minutes before getting some things together, just in case she decided to stay.

The conversation with her father went well until he started talking about Thanksgiving.

"I just hired a young man that I'd love for you to meet when you get here. You know the Hydes?" Kathryn felt she was being led into the trap.

"You mean that awful little man who always smells like cheap cigars and his mountainous wife?" She had always thought they were an aptly named pair.

"Well that isn't a very nice way to say it, but yes. They're really a very fine old family. It's their son Arnold, and he would just love to meet you."

"I'm sure that he would but I have to be honest, I'm really not interested in meeting anyone else right now." Kathryn wasn't even sure she wanted to go home for the holiday this year, but she would see where she got on this point.

"Oh? You said that man you were seeing was just a casual thing." She heard the contrivance in his voice clearly.

"It is Daddy, but I don't know if it's going to stay casual and frankly what chance is there of anything happening with Arnold Hyde when he's in Boston and I'm in Chicago?" Her mind was racing. She was going to end up on yet another bad date if she didn't figure something out fast.

"Well there would be a good chance if you moved back here. You know you can write from anywhere and that way you could concentrate on finding the right man to settle down with. Not some older man who runs a nightclub so he can meet impressionable young girls." He was using his 'cajoling the witness' voice.

"Daddy, I'm not twelve anymore and Lucien has been nothing but a gentleman to me ever since I first met him. If it will make you happy though I will have dinner with Arnold when I come home for Thanksgiving, but I am not moving anywhere in the near future." She was trying desperately to maintain the cover of a casual relationship while protecting the privacy of the actual relationship that was forming. Her father was not making it easy though.

"Corey said he-"

"You told me once that if Corey said the sun would come up tomorrow you wouldn't believe her until you saw it. Now she tells you some nonsense about someone she doesn't really like and you sound like it's the Gospel truth." She was getting flustered and that was never good. She took a deep breath and tried to get hold of herself.

"Katie, you're my only daughter and my only natural child, when I hear that you're with someone controlling I worry, no matter who it comes from." Kathryn hated it when he called her 'Katie', but she had never had the heart to tell him. As for the rest, she had to have some kind of an answer. She took a deep breath.

"Daddy I don't know why she thinks that. But don't you think you're going a little overboard about someone I've been to the theater with a few times?" Kathryn knew her voice sounded perfectly reasonable, even if her mind was still spinning.

"She says you've started writing there." Kathryn rolled her eyes.

"He collects rare books. I have access to texts there I've only seen referenced other places. Besides he's not anywhere near me when I'm working. I might see him for twenty minutes on one of those evenings." Kathryn really hated lying to him, but at this point he sounded one step away from hiring a Private Investigator if he hadn't already. He was silent longer than she expected.

"Corey didn't mention the books." He said finally.

"Of course she didn't. She asks me questions about him and doesn't bother to listen to the answers. She's just set on the idea that there's something wrong with him and she doesn't want to be confused by the facts." Kathryn sighed softly. "I said I would go out with Arnold and I will, but I'm not going to keep defending Lucien when he hasn't done anything wrong and neither have I. It's exhausting."

"I'll let Arnold know that he has a date with you." Kathryn held her head in her hand and wondered how she was going to tell Lucien. He was a grown man; he should be able to deal with the idea that she could have a bad dinner with someone else to keep peace. Something told her that he wasn't going to be happy though.

"Alright Daddy. I'll call you later in the week when I arrange my flights." It was all she could say.

"Alright. Love you lots Katie-girl."

"Love you lots too Daddy."

She ended the call and took a few deep breaths before calling Corey. After establishing that she was alive and did not appreciate having someone try to break into the house she got to the question she really wanted to ask.

"What exactly makes you dislike him so much?"

"He's a snob, he's rude and don't you think it's kind of weird that he's so possessive when he hardly knows you?" Kathryn found herself listening to the background noise and trying to work out where Corey was.

"I think you're being a little possessive yourself. You push me to meet someone for years and now that I have you're upset." There was a metallic sounding announcement and she realized Corey was in the grocery store. She got her backpack from the closet and tossed in some clothes for class and a change of clothes for after.

"It's not that, you're just spending a lot of time with this guy. Way more than normal. I mean, what did you _do_ all night?" Kathryn looked at the old t-shirts she usually slept in and debated whether or not to take one. They seemed out of place in the middle of all that silk.

"I worked part of that time. If you had bothered to listen to anything I've told you instead of making assumptions you would know that he has an _amazing_ collection of books. Part of the time we slept. The rest of the time isn't worth mentioning really." Kathryn couldn't help smiling when she said it. Finally she remembered the burgundy silk nightgown she had bought on a whim. She still wasn't sure if she would stay, but she tossed it in the bag anyway.

"Wait a minute, wait wait _wait_. Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" She could hear Corey putting her groceries on the belt at the register and something in a can sounded like it fell.

"Well, I suppose that depends on what you're thinking." Kathryn went into her office and sat down at the computer. Corey had made fun of her when she bought the laptop and kept her desktop, but to her it made perfect sense. Sometimes she needed the quiet of her office, sometimes she needed and wanted to be mobile. She made her travel arrangements online quickly, before she could come up with some excuse not go.

"That you finally did it!" Corey wasn't really yelling, but Kathryn could just imagine people turning to stare. "You have to tell me everything, every last detail. You know what this means, right?"

"Not so loud!" Kathryn's cheeks were crimson. She grabbed her printed confirmation and the notebook that contained Paul's life. Sometimes reading through the incidents he had seen and places he had been inspired her. "And what does it mean?"

"Now you can break up with him." The scanner was beeping and Corey sounded downright gleeful.

"Corey, that makes no sense. You're going to dance class tomorrow night, right?" She held the phone between her head and her shoulder and put a few toiletries in the side pouch of the bag and closed the whole thing.

"Well yeah! Are you allowed to go?" The sarcasm was evident.

"Snarky this evening, aren't we?" Kathryn sat on her bed and wondered what else she might need.

"Well I wouldn't want you to get grounded." She said sweetly.

"Gee I remember a guy who wanted you to wear a dog collar and leash, and you _did_. And what did I say about that? Nothing." She replied as sweetly.

"That was different, he was a professional." Corey said quickly. Kathryn heard the automatic doors and the sounds of the parking lot.

"A professional _what_ exactly?" Kathryn asked.

"I can't explain it all now." For a change she heard Corey squirming.

"Then explain it over dinner tomorrow night."

"Oh you get to eat too?" Kathryn heard the thud of the trunk closing.

"I'll live dangerously and break curfew, like I have for almost three weeks now." She shook her head. "Oh, and I'm going out again tonight. Promise you won't call the FBI."

"Ha. Ha. You're a laugh riot. See you tomorrow night Kat."

"Bye Corey." She ended the call and trotted down the stairs. She found the driver sitting with an empty cup of coffee and an open newspaper.

"Would you mind if I stopped for Chinese food on the way back?" He took her backpack and she put his cup in the dishwasher.

"Not at all, just tell me what restaurant." Kathryn made a quick call and by the time they got to the Apple Jade the food was ready.

Kathryn couldn't explain why she was so ravenous, but she was barely able to wait until she was in the small kitchen again. Less than a minute after getting inside she was devouring Kung Pao Chicken and Shrimp and pork fried rice. She ate quickly, washed the plate and utensils and then went to work.

The idea had struck her in the restaurant. There was a large church group inside and she couldn't help but overhear the pastor telling the assembled company that the signs of the end times were everywhere and the Rapture couldn't be far off. Kathryn found the idea of the Rapture strange, but the more she thought about it the more the little part of her that was Paul seemed taken with it. She put her ear buds in her ears, turned on Mahler, opened a new document and let him start speaking.

"_On its surface, faith, like blood, appears to be a simple thing. We all know blood to be the thick, red liquid that pulses through the body. It nourishes us in a myriad of ways. It issues forth from wounds and eventually seals them. It is the one physical element that binds all races of men together, we all bleed. An excess of blood and one becomes caught up in a happy lethargy. Too little and mortal life ends._

_Faith is the substance that occupies the arteries of the soul. It provides its own ephemeral nourishment to the far corners of the spirit. It issues forth from psychic wounds, making them easier to cope with and eventually healing them. It is the one metaphysical element that binds all races of men together, we all believe in something. Too much faith and the mortal body is neglected and abused in the pursuit of something higher. Too little and the soul dies, leaving the body an empty shell given to hedonistic excesses._

_However, if one looks closely at either faith or blood one finds a world of complexities. But, I wax philosophical in my later centuries. Let me begin by relating the story of how I came to be considering such deeply convoluted terrain in the first place."_

Kathryn smiled and her fingers flew over the keys.

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LaCroix caught her scent as soon as he opened the door. His desire for her was intense, for her company, for her body, and for her blood. Tonight though, he would settle for her company and closeness. He had more than satisfied his hunger earlier, though the complexity and wonderful richness of her flavor were missing, the purpose was served. As for her body, that was still healing and he intended to let her have the time she needed. Her shoulder and wrist concerned him most. In his isolation and passion he had forgotten the fragility of mortals. When she recoiled from him earlier in the evening he wondered if her mind hadn't accepted his suggestions and in truth her acceptance was imperfect. He had considered trying again, but decided against it. She didn't see the scabbed wounds, and she had fit the bruise into a familiar schema. The intent of the suggestion was intact.

He was surprised that she didn't acknowledge him when he came in, but then he noticed the ear buds. He listened closely and when heard Mahler a small smile touched his lips. She was wearing glasses but her eyes were half-closed, as if she was daydreaming. The soft, rapid clicking of the keys surprised him slightly. He had expected that she would type quickly, but her speed was impressive. He moved closer and sat down silently, his hearing tuned to the music she was listening to. He decided to wait until she was finished.

As he watched he got a new understanding of her writing. It was more than the detailed research or her connection to the history she used. It was more than the way she looked at the modern world through the eyes of an observer rather than a participant. There was a visceral intensity that came through her onto the page and seeing her now it was easy to imagine her channeling someone else's words through her fingers.

She pulled down the high collar of the mock turtleneck and rubbed absently at the wound while the other hand skimmed the keys. Her breathing had shifted, her breaths coming faster. He could see her biting the corner of her lip, her teeth nearly drawing blood. He watched her mouth and saw the pressure ease. Her hands slowed and the music stopped. She took off the glasses and rubbed her eyes, then tugged the ear buds free. He realized he had been watching her for nearly two hours.

When she finally realized he was there her shocked gasp brought a small smile to his face.


	15. Complexities

15. Complexities

"When did you get here?" Kathryn felt as if she just woke from sleepwalking to find herself somewhere unfamiliar. She walked around the table and into his embrace, still flushed from the shock.

"Two hours ago, it's nearly four." He kissed her softly. "You were so absorbed I hesitated to interrupt."

"I didn't mean to ignore you though. I'm bad company when I write." He held her close for a moment before leading her to the sofa. Kathryn hesitated before sitting.

"Something wrong?" His eyes narrowed slightly.

"No, I'm just hungry. Give me a minute to eat some fruit or something." He joined her in the kitchen while she ate a banana. At least she didn't feel as desperately hungry as she had earlier, just unusually tired. "I'm sorry; I don't know what's wrong with me today."

"You were working so intensely I'm not surprised you need some sort of nourishment. Were you able to make your phone calls?"

Kathryn nodded and swallowed the bite in her mouth. The comfortable ease of a few minutes ago evaporated when she realized she was going to have to tell him about the conversation with her father.

"You know I'm planning to go home for a few days over Thanksgiving." She started, sounding a little more guarded than usual.

"Yes, have your plans changed?" He seemed to sense her cautious approach and sounded wary himself.

"No, not exactly." She took a deep breath and found she couldn't look at him. "And you know that my father likes to think he's going to arrange a 'suitable match' for me."

"You mentioned that." She would have sworn that she could feel his eyes narrow.

"Well, when I go home, he's got someone he wants me to meet." She finished the last of the banana and tossed the skin in the trash. She tried to make herself look at him and found that she couldn't meet his eyes. He grasped her arm lightly at the elbow and led her back to the sofa, holding her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes when they were seated.

"What are you telling me Kathryn? Specifically." Kathryn could feel her heart racing. He wasn't hurting her, but something about his presence shifted to something almost threatening.

"I'm telling you that I got blindsided by a smart lawyer." She squirmed a little and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "He's been manipulating situations for years. I just don't have that kind of practice yet."

"But you did agree to meet this person." The tone of his voice hadn't risen, his light touch hadn't changed, but it was all that Kathryn could do to be still under that icy stare.

"What could I do? I told him I wasn't interested in meeting someone else and I'm not. But I know how he is; if I had been too much more insistent than I was he would have hired a Private Investigator, if he hasn't already. I know you value your privacy so it seemed better to just sit through a boring dinner and give Daddy time to get used to the fact that I'm not available anymore." Kathryn could feel herself on the verge of tears. His face softened a bit and his thumb stroked her cheek.

"How long will you be home?" He asked, some of the menace gone from his voice.

"I leave the Tuesday before; I've arranged to take a late flight so that day is pretty much gone. I'm home Wednesday and Thursday and come back on Friday. I'm sure dinner will be all arranged at some nice restaurant on Wednesday night." She lowered her eyes; he kissed her softly and drew her close against his shoulder. Kathryn trembled against him.

"He really expects you would meet someone for such a short time and decide to completely alter your life?" He stroked her back softly. She sensed the tension in his body, but the menace was gone.

"That's how it happened with my mother. What he didn't know was that she never loved him, not really. He thinks he swept her off her feet and she liked him well enough to stay married to him but there was no great love there. He thinks I'll see someone he introduces me to the same way he thinks she saw him. I'm going to call Grandmother tomorrow night and see if she can talk some sense into him." Kathryn's heart was still beating fast.

"Why would your mother marry a man she didn't love?" He asked, stroking her back lightly.

"I don't know. But Grandmother never loved my grandfather either. I think it's some kind of a curse or something, at least that's how Grandmother talks about it." Kathryn found herself relaxing. "So now I'm probably stuck having dinner with Arnold Hyde."

"Has he at least told you anything about this person?" Kathryn snuggled closer.

"No, but I've met his parents. Unless Arnold was adopted he's probably some kind of mutant." She laughed softly and he chuckled. "Well that's not true exactly, he works with Daddy and he's bright enough to know that if the boss asks if you want to meet his daughter that the correct response is 'yes, of course.' Other than that, mutant status still applies."

He lifted her chin again.

"I don't like this Kathryn, but it seems as though it's not entirely your choice. You will tell me if something changes."

"You'll be the first to know. Between Corey and my father you probably think I'm more trouble than I'm worth." Kathryn smiled a little but at this moment it was her worst fear, not because she had slept with him, but because she cared about him and would miss him if he weren't in her life.

"When one reaches my age, one learns the value of patience." He kissed her lightly and Kathryn knew the subject was closed for the moment. "So what were you working on so intensely when I came in?"

"Well, I finally got an idea that I can run with. I'm not sure what my editor will think, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it." She sighed as he started working his fingers through her hair.

"That sounds very mysterious." He chuckled softly.

"It's probably been done before, but Paul will be commenting on faith in general and the role of faith and religion in people's lives. How much is deeply held conviction, how much is going along with the masses and what happens to those who don't go along."

"A vampire discussing faith," he mused, his fingertip traced the shell of her ear, making Kathryn shiver pleasantly. "An interesting concept."

"More just the observations he's made over the years, I'm not sure if his faith is going to have anything to do with it yet. It'll probably turn out to be very boring and ponderous and I'll have to start all over again." She laughed softly.

"On the contrary, I would be very curious to read it." His fingers rubbed the back of her neck gently.

"Then you'll be the first." She kissed his lower lip softly

"I'm honored." He stroked her cheek softly.

"I'm selfish. I know this one is going to rely heavily on history to make it come alive so to speak. You're so much more competent with that than I am and I know you'll be honest enough with me to tell me if it's lousy." Her finger moved lightly over his chest, her eyes closed.

"I'm still honored. Were you able to reach Miss James?" His fingers stroked down her back lightly.

Kathryn groaned and rolled her eyes and then told him how she found the policeman at her door at Corey's request. She could tell he was upset again, but at least this upset wasn't directed at her. His face betrayed nothing, but there were subtle changes in his body that she was getting better at recognizing.

"The driver should have called me." She could hear that he was displeased.

"He was about to, but I stopped him." His eyebrows rose as she looked up at him.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because it was all over and he was leaving by the time the driver said he should call you. At that point it just seemed like bothering you for nothing. Even if he had called when we first got there it wouldn't have made much difference. The whole thing was over in five minutes. Please don't be upset with him, he seems terrified of displeasing you." Kathryn tried to suppress a yawn, a little shiver running through her body.

"Is your key still outside?" He ignored her comment entirely and Kathryn hoped she hadn't gotten the driver into any trouble. He seemed like a nice guy.

"No, I gave it to Mrs. Feldman next door. If God shows up in person with a really _really_ good story she might let him in. Other than that, the place is safe." Kathryn laughed a little and yawned again, his arm tightened around her waist. "I should go, I'm half asleep now."

"Then stay." Kathryn found it really wasn't in her to protest any further. The thought of feeling him next to her in the dark seemed like the most comforting thing she could think of at the moment anyway. She already felt as if she was floating. She nodded.

"Go get comfortable, I'll be right in." He kissed her softly and Kathryn got up slowly. She stretched and picked up her backpack.

Once she changed she was glad that she brought the nightgown instead of an old t-shirt. It flattered her without being overt and it definitely felt nice against her skin. When she emerged again, Kathryn noticed the bed had been changed to deep green sheets with a black coverlet and she had a stab of guilt. She knew she had bled when he entered her and she hoped the other set wasn't ruined. When she was shopping she would have to try and find a similar set to replace it.

Kathryn got in and curled up, barely hearing him enter the room, and then the bathroom and finally she felt him get in next to her. He pulled her closer and she curled up against him, sighing comfortably. His hand stroked down her back and over her hip, eventually stopping to finger the hem of the nightgown. His lips were soft against hers and Kathryn moaned a little.

"Do you dress when you sleep alone?" His lips teased hers softly.

"Yes." Kathryn felt herself blush a little. She tensed a little when his hand moved up under the gown, stroking her bare hip. Her eyes were down.

"Maybe I should go home." She whispered, Kathryn could feel fear knotting in her chest and she pulled away from him. He kissed her softly, his mouth reassuring.

"Of course you shouldn't. I want to feel your warm skin next to me with no barriers, and that's all." His voice was soft, but the command was obvious. The memory of his cool skin pressed against her body was clear and the thought of feeling that again was something she dearly wanted. Slowly Kathryn sat up and he did too. She looked nervously over her shoulder at him and wondered where all of this obedience was coming from all of a sudden. She pulled the silky fabric over her head and he tried to take it from her hands but Kathryn wouldn't let go.

"Please," She was holding the comforter over her breasts and trembling a bit. She had wanted to say more but found that nothing else would come out. She couldn't even look at him. He kissed the bruise on the side of her neck softly before letting go. While the light touch was painful, the gesture was comforting and possessive as well. She put the gown on the empty nightstand at her side of the bed. Confusion about her feelings swirled again. Kathryn had always been very much in charge of the direction of her life, her grandmother and mother had always encouraged her to have her own mind. There was also a part of her that was just as strong that found it completely natural to give up some of that control to him. He pulled her close again, her back pressing against his chest, his arm around her waist.

"I will always prevail, Kathryn." He spoke softly and she turned to face him, resting against his chest. He stroked her back softly.

"That scares me." The words were out before she had the chance to think about them, she realized she was trembling.

"Because you've been told it should?" His lips teased the spot just below her ear and Kathryn felt herself relaxing again.

"No, because sometimes there's a tone in your voice and it's so familiar or it reaches something in me that's unfamiliar. It's so confusing." He moved her so that she was resting more on his chest. His fingers in her hair, moving her head, letting his lips tease down the side of her neck.

"Stop thinking, Kathryn. It will only serve to make your confusion worse." His mouth lingered over the bruise, drawing a soft whimper from Kathryn. It still throbbed dully and even his light touch was painful. His arm held her firmly and the dull pain sharpened for a split second. Her nails bit into his arm as she tensed, relaxing completely when the pain and ache dissolved. The gentle movements of his mouth seeming to draw out all the fear and confusion and the last bit of energy she had. Sleep crept over her and Kathryn welcomed it.

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LaCroix had not intended to taste her blood again so soon. Her body was still replenishing itself. But then she voiced her fear and her vulnerability was more than he could stand. Hunger didn't drive him to open the tiny wound. If he had been hungry the few drops of her blood that oozed from the tiny breach would have only served to inflame him. He wanted the connection with her. He wanted to feel her surrender. He wanted to lose himself in her flavor. The last thing that he expected was that she would be comforted by it.

He had been deliberately gentle, not wanting to cause more undue pain to the angry-looking bruise. He had expected the weak struggle, but it was clear that was because of the momentary pain of her skin being broken. Once that pain had passed she relaxed completely. Her breathing fell into the deep, regular pattern of sleep before her blood stopped oozing. His mouth worked lightly until the wound sealed itself. She had groaned softly when he took his mouth away.

He wasn't surprised by her turmoil, this was a confusing age. The place of a woman in the world had changed greatly since his beliefs about the order of the world had been formed. Perhaps in some ways that was a good thing. If she hadn't written her books he never would have met her. She would have been married off to some friend of her father's, perhaps to cement an alliance, perhaps to simply have her taken care of by someone else. Of course that presumed she wasn't a slave. There were qualities of a servant about her, but her features were clearly aristocratic.

Some changes had subverted the true nature of men and women and what they were meant to be to each other. While he valued her intelligence and strength and didn't want her to lose those things, he knew that whether she was mortal or immortal, if she were within his sphere she _would_ submit to his control. Each time she struggled he sensed she was questioning the instinct to simply do what he asked. If she could confront a police detective he doubted that authority figures had much effect on her. She seemed to work just as hard at manipulating her father as he did at manipulating her so he would guess that she didn't automatically respect older men. He wondered if there was anyone who inspired that kind of simple acceptance in her. The familiarity comment was interesting though. He felt flashes of it himself, and the way she read him so well so quickly made him think that there was something there, he simply wasn't able to determine what it was yet.

LaCroix noticed she was shivering and her breathing told him that she was close to waking. He shifted her body carefully, spooning behind her before pulling the covers up over both of them. Kathryn sighed softly and settled again.

The friend was proving to be a problem, but one that could be remedied. His first instinct was toward a permanent solution, but that would cause Kathryn a great deal of pain. For whatever reason, she valued her connection to Corrina James. There was another way though. One of the young ones from the club had her well under his control that first night, and he happened to know that one had particularly poorly developed mental skills. Perhaps it wasn't the boy's fault, he was very young and without the benefit of much instruction. It did mean though that Corrina was highly suggestible. He would simply place a few simple, well-tailored suggestions and see what happened. A permanent solution could always be implemented.

The family was something else. The father disliked him, though from what Kathryn said the grandmother didn't. He could tell it was the grandmother's opinion that mattered most to her. The arranged meeting over Thanksgiving bothered him, not because he doubted her but because the idea of someone else being close to her in that way put him on edge. LaCroix couldn't even begin to count the number of lovers he had had through the centuries. He had needs and wasn't about to apologize for that, but sex was also a useful tool. It established power and dominance within a new alliance. He had found desire was an effective means of control, and with certain people pleasure could be even more effective than pain. He was rarely possessive of those he took to his bed. He wasn't interested in having them as his own and so they weren't worth his effort. They were just convenient or necessary. She was different. When LaCroix looked down at her sleeping profile he saw something that was _his_ and he was possessive of what was his. The thought of someone else being close to her made him want to keep her from going. That was perhaps drastic enough to drive her away from him, and that was not the desired result.

He stroked her stomach softly and wondered how such a small girl had so many complexities.


	16. A Stir of Echoes

16. A Stir of Echoes

Kathryn woke slowly, relishing the sensation of drifting between sleep and waking wrapped in silky sheets and his arms. Once her mind was more awake she wondered if there was anything else in the world that could be more luxurious. She lay still and realized that he was still sleeping deeply. She got up carefully, pulled the nightgown over her head and carefully counted off the steps to the bathroom door. She had read somewhere that was a technique used by the blind and so she had counted off the steps before he got back the night before. It got her there without any accidents, though she found she was less disoriented if her eyes were closed. She turned on the bathroom light when the door was safely shut.

Kathryn looked longingly at the tub, but even if she had time to wait for it to fill she would still need a shower after class. She washed up in the sink, glad the bruise on her wrist was nearly gone and the one on her neck looked decidedly better. She pulled on a mock turtleneck and gray leggings and a pair of white socks before brushing out her hair and pulling it back in a ponytail. She listened closely for a moment, thinking that she heard him stirring. Last night he had been so upset with her and then with Corey she had wanted to simply let him sleep and hope that tonight would be better. She shut the light off and opened the door. She found him stretched out in bed, watching her.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" She set her bag by the door and curled up next to him, kissing him lightly. He pulled her close and deepened the kiss.

"I knew you were gone." Kathryn snuggled close and he nuzzled the side of her neck softly. "Were you going to just leave without saying goodbye?"

"No," she settled comfortably against him. "I was going to leave you a note and then call you after class was over. You looked like you were sleeping so soundly when I got up."

"Considerate and fetching, but I'd prefer you to wake me." He kissed her softly and Kathryn relaxed against him. One finger stroking his chest softly. "You didn't have a chance to take a proper bath though."

"Well no, but I always shower after class anyway." Kathryn felt the soft blush return to her cheeks and she wondered if washing up hadn't been enough. "Besides, it seemed a waste to fill that huge tub just for me."

"Indulge whenever you wish, I do." He chuckled softly. "So you have your dance class tonight, and then what?" His fingers traced her arm lightly.

Kathryn didn't think that anyone had been so concerned about her schedule since she was a teenager and part of her wanted to tell him that it was none of his business. That was not the part that answered though.

"Probably dinner with Corey, attempt to settle her down, or at least find out more about what's wrong with her. I've never seen her have such a strong reaction to anyone."

"And you'll be coming back here after." It wasn't a question or a request. Kathryn shook her head and looked away, ready to protest. There had to be some reason, any reason to say no. She couldn't just move in here with him, even if she did sleep better here than she did at home. "Are you struggling to find reasons to come back, or to find reasons to stay away?" He asked, as if reading her mind. He stroked her cheek softly and she turned to face him again.

"You'll get bored with me if I stay all the time. You've seen how I get when I write." She said quietly. It was true; she knew she was bad company when she was actively working on writing something and not just researching it. She tended to be distant and engrossed in her project and none of that was really conducive to making another person want to have her around.

"Is that your only reason?" He kissed her softly, his tongue barely brushing hers.

"The only one I'm able to think of right now, yes." She blushed. The touch of his mouth and his closeness was almost more than she could take.

"I'm quite capable occupying my own mind if you're writing." His lips continued to tease hers and Kathryn moaned softly, feeling her body start to respond to his light touches. She arched as one hand slid under the hem of the shirt. "You'll come back."

"I'll come back." She said, her fingertips tracing lightly up over his chest. Kathryn wondered if she was ever going to be able to say no to him again, of course a few more minutes laying there and she wouldn't leave in the first place. Kathryn felt herself tense as his fingers teased over her nipples lightly. The ache might have left the bruise on her neck but it was still fresh between her legs. "I'll be late for my class." Her voice sounded uncertain as she said it.

"Still hurting, sweet Kathryn?" His lips softened and his hand moved back down to her stomach, resting it there.

"I'm sorry." Kathryn found she wasn't sure what else to say and she looked away.

"No apologies needed." He turned her to face him again. "You'll heal in your own time. Speaking of healing, how is the bruise on your neck?"

"Better, it's hardly tender at all this evening, and it's fading." He turned her head and tugged down the collar of the shirt, inspecting the mark. It made Kathryn a little nervous for some reason, but she stayed where he positioned her.

"You heal quickly." His lips brushed the spot just below her ear.

"You know the old saying, people who heal quickly have a powerful force of goodness in them." She smiled but thought she saw something flash across his face. It was gone before she could tell for certain though. "Or at least that's what Grandmother always says, maybe she made it up."

"No, she didn't." He kissed her softly. "I haven't heard that in quite some time, though."

"That's my family, we're all wrapped up in the past in one way or another." She kissed his shoulder lightly, but there was a definite shift in him. There was nothing in his face, just a bit of tension that hadn't been there a moment ago. "I really should go, I'm sorry."

"You have the driver's number?" He asked, holding her close.

"I'll only need to be dropped off at the gym. Corey will have her car and can drop me off here, or if she's being a pain she can take me home and I'll drive myself." She hesitated to move out of his embrace, but after a moment he let her go and handed her a card with a number and a key.

"The key will let you in the private entrance, though if you find it more convenient you can ask for me at the door of the club and I'll let you in. And the driver's number, just in case you need it." He kissed her deeply and Kathryn stroked his tongue softly with hers.

"Thank you." She moved slowly out of his arms, but kept her fingers twined with his. "Are you alright?"

"Why?" He looked a bit surprised that she would even ask.

"I don't know, you just felt different against me all of a sudden." He pulled her close and kissed her again.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. Now go, or I'll keep you here." He smiled and released her hand.

"I won't be too late." Kathryn picked up her bag as she left the room, closing the door softly behind herself.


	17. The After Dinner Guest

17. The After Dinner Guest

"Okay, so what's really behind this?" Kathryn dipped the ring of fried calamari in sauce and saw Corey blanch as she ate it.

"I don't know how you can eat that stuff." She said with a little shiver.

"It's just squid. Answer the question." Class had been good for her. The movements had actually eased her ache and the concentration had allowed her mind to turn over the Corey issue without actually thinking about it consciously. She knew that Corey and Lucien were polar opposites, but just about ANYONE that would suit her as a mate would be Corey's opposite. What struck her was that Corey was pretty easy going when it came to men in general. They were there and she liked them, but she didn't get attached very often and she didn't get drawn into drama. It made Kathryn think that this had more to do with her than with Lucien.

"He's just weird, Kat." She was shredding a piece of bread and Kathryn suppressed the urge to say something. She wanted information, not to lecture about table manners.

"Not good enough, the way you've been burning up the phone lines you must have something more specific to say than that." Kathryn was halfway through the seafood and Corey still hadn't looked her in the eye.

"I don't know, it's a lot of things. He's so intense, and he looks at you like he knows you." She was nibbling at the bread.

"He can be very intense," Kathryn nodded. "But you say the same thing about me."

"But it's not the same kind of intense. You have this intense bookworm thing going on. He could peel paint just by staring at it for awhile. That is NOT normal." The waiter brought their meals and Kathryn dove into her slice of three meat lasagna while Corey savored her fettuccine alfredo. For a few minutes, both women ate in silence.

"All of his paintwork seems intact so far. I think it has to do with the color of his eyes though, I don't know if I've ever seen anyone with that same eye color. The rest I think is just a mannerism." Kathryn took a sip of her wine.

"The color of his eyes and mannerisms don't explain why he acts like he knows you." Kathryn could see by the way that Corey stabbed at her pasta that there was something else, but she wasn't sure if her friend was going to be able to articulate it yet.

"You're the one who dragged me to that silly past-life regression quack." Kathryn rolled her eyes a little at the memory. Even though she absolutely believed that some people had lived previously she doubted anyone would find out who they were in a store-front office in the mall. "Maybe our souls have met before, or maybe we just click. Maybe he's intuitive about some things, like I'm supposed to be. It could be a million things, but it's not automatically sinister. Besides, there are times when I feel like he's familiar to me as well. Does that make _me_ dangerous?"

"Dr. Pinsky is not a quack. You're just not hypnotizable."

"Memories, even memories from this lifetime, recovered under hypnosis are unreliable. Once someone is in a highly suggestible state leading questions can create vivid memories of things that never happened, and those false memories have all the emotional impact of real memories. I don't need to be any more emotional than I am already lately, and I certainly don't need a stranger fiddling with my memories." Kathryn realized she was feeling pleasantly full. She was very glad that she wasn't feeling as hungry or as worn out as she was the night before, she had been worried she might be getting the flu.

"Well none of that changes the fact that he's cold." Corey's plate was nearly empty now too.

"How do you mean?" Kathryn had noticed that his skin was always cool. She thought it was unusual but far from unpleasant. She wasn't certain he had ever touched Corey though.

"I mean he looks at you like," She stopped searching for the right words. "Like you're some kind of threat to him, or like you're just a bug on his windshield."

"So he's guarded. A lot of people are. You know how long it usually takes me to warm up to someone. None of that justifies calling the police though." Kathryn was picking at what was left on her plate until the waiter cleared the table.

"And you scared him away." Corey said with an accusatory tone. "You know he came to my apartment and went into this long confession about how he was married and how he was SO sorry. Like I couldn't tell he was married in the first place."

"Corey! If you knew why did you," Kathryn hesitated to call it what it was. "Get together with him?"

"He didn't always look like he'd been dragged through Hell. In fact when I met him he was pretty hot. I figured if he was out looking why not? He did say that if you were looking for a career change you ought to be a detective." Corey laughed softly and Kathryn couldn't help but smile.

"Well, if the writing thing ever goes south, I'll think about it. I feel a little bad though; I try and only use my powers for good." Her smile was sweet and angelic and it was impossible to suppress a laugh.

"You're the only person I know who can scare the police." Corey was laughing now too.

"So does that mean that I can be trusted to take care of myself?" Kathryn raised an eyebrow.

"Kat there's just something about him, something weird. Don't you feel it?" She was serious again and Kathryn could hear the concern in her voice.

"I feel that he's definitely different than anyone else I've met before and there is something about him that makes him just out of step with the world in some ways. There are oddities I've noticed and I get the impression that there's something about himself that he hasn't told me, but this sinister, dangerous picture that you have, I'm just not seeing it." It was entirely true, there was something there but Kathryn just wasn't getting a bad vibe.

"I guess you would be one to pick up on it." She admitted grudgingly. "I miss you though Kat. You're the only friend I have that I can really _talk_ to. You're really into this guy and he looks at me like I'm some crack whore who's trying to drag you out of the library and onto the street corner."

"He doesn't think of you like that. I don't know if you two would ever be friends, but I do know that neither one of you made a good impression that night at my house." If she were going to be honest with herself, Corey's assessment of Lucien's feelings might be close to right. But this wasn't about honesty; it was about calming Corey down. "And I'm not going anywhere. You and Lucien don't have to be friends. You and I are. Now come on and take me home, I need to get a change of clothes and stuff."

"Okay, but you have to _promise_ to tell me everything about the big night." Corey grinned wickedly and Kathryn felt herself blush.

"How about the abridged version of everything?" The two women walked the short distance to the car.

"How about not! How many hot guys have I set you up with and you pick him? I want to know why."

"I want to know why you picked Jerry Tolliver as your first. At least Lucien smells good." Kathryn said as Corey pulled away.

Kathryn let herself in around eleven. She had managed to say very little to Corey about 'the big night' while implying quite a bit. Corey's vivid imagination filled in the rest. It didn't really matter whether those imaginings were accurate or not, Corey had her story and Kathryn had her privacy. Though she supposed it wasn't just _her_ privacy anymore.

The rest was still not entirely resolved in Kathryn's mind, although she thought she made some headway. Corey did tend to get very set in her beliefs though and drunken first impressions mixing with bad second impressions might be hard to overcome. Maybe the three of them should go to dinner some night, just in the interest if establishing peace.

That was something that could be worked out later though. Just because she was focused on something else didn't mean the story had gone away. All night it had tugging at the edges of her mind and now the maelstrom was insisting on release. However, tonight was not a Mahler night. She scanned the music on her laptop and selected His Infernal Majesty.

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LaCroix looked disdainfully at the boxy apartment complex. It was one of those places that had been designed to look old, even when it was new. As the years had gone on, age had taken on the air of depression and hopelessness. He was not surprised that Corrina James would live in such a place. He had watched as she dropped Kathryn off, following above rooftops. He noted what door she went into and then waited for a time, considering his plan. LaCroix knew the safest course would be to eliminate Corrina, but as intuitive as Kathryn was, it was entirely possible that she would sense something and he didn't want to take that chance. He also knew that he could not stand to lose Kathryn because of a meddler. He had experienced that kind of loss already and didn't wish to repeat it. While he didn't think that Corrina had the same influence at her disposal he wasn't about to take the risk.

He moved out of the deep shadow he was standing in and knocked on the door, as benign a look on his face as he could muster. After a moment the door opened a crack. He noticed that it was held by a rather flimsy-looking chain and that Corrina was wearing an equally flimsy-looking robe.

"Good evening, Miss James." She smelled as if she had been drinking, or the apartment held that scent.

"Hi." She looked at him uncertainly. "What are you doing here? Kat's back at your place." She was shifting from foot to foot nervously. Perhaps she had more sense than he had credited her with.

"I am aware of that. I came to speak with you."

"About what?" She looked at him incredulously, but didn't make a move to open the door. He glanced behind himself at the deserted courtyard and considered the viability of forcing the door.

"About Kathryn of course. However I don't believe your neighbors have any interest in our conversation." His voice was calm, reasonable, entirely non-threatening. She hesitated a moment more before shutting the door and unhooking the chain. She stood aside as he entered. The room was cluttered with dishes, take-out food boxes and clothing. He wrinkled his nose slightly and wondered why anyone would choose to live in such conditions. The framed print of 'Flaming June' caught his eye.

"A gift from Kathryn?" He reluctantly took his eyes from the print's serenity and turned them back to the chaos of the rest of the room.

"Yeah, a housewarming thing. How did you know?" She cleared space on the sofa for him.

"We discussed the artist briefly."

"So if Kat's back at your place, what are you doing here?" She sat down and crossed her legs, allowing the robe to ride up and expose a rose tattoo on her upper thigh. He had seen professional whores who weren't so obvious.

"Kathryn is very dear to me. Perhaps you don't realize how your comments upset her." He was still standing over her.

"You mean my comments about you." She was smiling and for the moment he let her think she was in control of the situation.

"Precisely."

"Look if it weren't for me Kat would be a hermit. She would never have any fun and she would fall for the first guy that made her cum. I guess that would be you so I can see why you'd be offended, but you're really not what she needs. Besides, so far I've only been telling her the truth. How do you think she would react if I told her you were here?" Corrina got up and started pacing in front of him. She was six inches taller than Kathryn and moved with an overt sensuality that might have interested him for a few minutes, if he had been desperate. "I mean, let's be honest. All that purity must have made you curious, but do you really want to spend months or years cutting through all that sweetness and light and only managing to teach her to be a mediocre fuck?" She stopped in front of him and let the robe slip from her shoulder. Her breast was still covered, but the suggestion was obvious as she teased her nipple through the cheap nylon. LaCroix managed to keep the look of disgust off of his face. "Kat's smart and cute in her own way, but guys want more than that and she knows that's why they come to me. I might even have to tell her that you came over here and came on to me. Not that I would want to fuck you, but maybe you were so insistent I had a choice between giving in or being raped. I don't think that would sit well with sweet, innocent _Kathryn_, do you? Why I don't think she would even take your calls-" He grabbed both her arms, his rage barely concealed, the terror was obvious on Corrina's face and in the surprised little scream that escaped her lips.

"You have no idea how lucky you are that she cares for you as much as she does." He growled. The connection was ridiculously easy to make and the suggestions that he planted were simple and to the point. Corrina would stop calling Kathryn's family. She would never even _hint_ at the vicious lie she just suggested. She would stop the negative comments. She would stop badgering Kathryn to end the relationship and if she did all of these things she would be allowed to retain Kathryn's friendship. The price for slipping even once would be her life, though he found he wasn't interested in taking her blood himself. Even though whores had been fodder for his kind for centuries, the most debased street creature was more tempting to him now. That hardly mattered. There were others who would act on his order. He left her with no memory of his visit and he found himself wishing that he could forget as easily.


	18. Dominus

18. Dominus

Kathryn took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She was happy with what she had accomplished in the past few nights. She turned off the music and penciled a few notes into Paul's life, checking relevant dates against her historical notes. She leaned back in the chair and let her mind wander through the scenes she had written so far. They were still sketchy, but it was only a first draft. She drew herself into the scene in her imagination. What did she see? What did she smell? What were the sensations on her skin? How did the light play off the people and objects in the scene? How did she remember things from her own life? What details stood out and what nuances had faded into the background? These were Paul's memories and whatever else he might be he remembered things in the same way anyone else did. The myriad of ordinary nights made no impression, but the nights when something happened caught his attention.

Kathryn rubbed absently at the side of her neck. If she pressed it was still somewhat sore, but the aching pain was almost completely gone. Most of it had gone the night before when he was – when he was what? Kissing her? No, that wasn't quite it. Nibbling? Nuzzling? Nothing seemed to fit, not like it mattered all that much to her. Whatever it was it felt wonderful then. The memory itself warmed her now. Kathryn pressed her legs together, the sensation of mild discomfort that still made itself known sometimes was being eclipsed by the slowly growing sensation of excitement. She drew her knees up, sitting sideways in the chair, the feelings his mouth drew from her skin the current focus of her memories.

The touch on her cheek was light at first, and Kathryn thought that she was imagining it. Then the soft caress moved down the side of her neck and Kathryn opened her eyes, expecting to find herself alone. She jumped when she realized he was standing over her, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Pleasant dreams?" He asked.

Kathryn stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, her tongue caressing his lips. His kiss was hungry, forceful almost. She pressed closer against him, her body trembled and responded. Her hands moving over his back as his hands moved up her sides, caressing her breasts with his thumbs. Kathryn felt herself moan and her nipples hardened, she pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. His hips pressed her back against the edge of the table firmly, effectively pinning her there. Kathryn could feel his hardness pressing against her and she let out a soft whimpering moan. He took his mouth away for a moment and looked down at her. Kathryn arched against his body, her fingers opening his shirt slowly, taking care not to touch his skin. She opened the fabric and let her tongue caress his sternum. He groaned and pressed her back again, his hands moving up under her shirt, cupping her breasts, massaging her already-hard nipples.

She leaned back and his lips feathered over hers at the same moment that he ripped the bra from her body as if it were made of tissue paper. Kathryn whimpered as one of the straps scratched painfully over her shoulder. He pinched her nipples firmly and she finished the last of the buttons, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders as well, her nails teasing his nipples, her tongue moved along his collarbone. His low growl made Kathryn both shiver and press up against him. One arm went around her body, lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

In the deep darkness of the bedroom Kathryn pulled her shirt over her head and leaned back, his hands tugging her leggings and panties off. He opened her legs wide, his tongue tickling her delicate inner lips and then pressing against her entrance. She whimpered and tensed as the discomfort returned for a moment, then pressed against him wanting him to explore her fully. He teased her just enough to make her whimper with need.

His mouth moved up her body, capturing one nipple roughly between his teeth. The sharp pain made her cry out and arch, her nails biting into his shoulders. His mouth softened and Kathryn felt herself getting completely lost in the sensation. His lips moved to her other nipple, his tongue barely teasing the sensitive little bud, his lips feathering over it. Kathryn arched her back pressing against his mouth. When her need was at its sharpest, he retreated from her completely.

Kathryn was confused and trying to catch her breath. She reached out into the darkness where he was last but her hands found nothing but empty air. She was about to call out to him when his familiar tight grip closed around her wrist. He guided her so that she was partially straddling him, partially sitting in front of him. She could feel the thick head of his hardness teasing her wet folds, he turned dim light on and Kathryn looked away, her face deep red. One of his hands twined in her hair, turning her eyes back to his. As much as she wanted him, she couldn't keep the apprehension out of her eyes.

His mouth found hers softly and Kathryn felt herself relax. Her legs tightened around him, his thickness pressing firmly against her entrance. She squirmed and pressed against him but couldn't press herself forward firmly enough.

"Help me." Her voice quivered, so did her body.

His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her forward sharply. Kathryn gave a shocked, pained cry against his mouth as he pressed halfway inside her. His mouth possessed hers again and he pulled her forward again, sinking deeply into her. Kathryn's cry was muffled by his mouth. Tears slipped down her cheeks but she clung to him. Her legs tightened again and she whimpered as her depths were opened even more. His mouth softened and he let her rest her head on his shoulder as her body relaxed around him.

His lips moved softly over her neck and shoulder. His hand starting to guide her hips slowly, letting her pick up his rhythm, groaning as she did. His hips moved against hers and she met his movements, her nails dug into his back. Her release so close, the hand in her hair turned her head, holding her neck stretched and exposed. Kathryn moved firmly against him, crying out as the powerful release took her. His mouth closed over the side of her neck and the pain and pleasure became thoroughly mixed. She was moaning, trembling softly as she held his head there. She whimpered when he took his mouth away.

"No, please don't stop." She moaned, trembling as secondary waves of pleasure coursed through her. His tongue moved as gently as it before and Kathryn felt the deep relaxation taking over her body. He withdrew from her slowly and she whimpered softly, the sharp ache returning. Her arms tightening around him, her eyes closed. Kathryn barely noticed as he leaned back, she still straddled his hips, her body resting on his chest. His tongue swept over her shoulder and she shivered, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Her eyes closed and she felt herself go limp as his hands swept over her back and hips softly. It wasn't until one hand moved up the inside of her thigh that she realized how open and exposed she was. Kathryn shifted to move off of him but his arm tightened around her waist, holding her still. Kathryn couldn't help but shiver as one fingertip teased and tickled her close to the edge again, eventually drawing a second orgasm from her body. She felt herself drifting off into a satisfied half-doze.

"Dominus." She murmured just before unconsciousness took her completely.

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LaCroix was stunned. From anyone else he would have thought it contrived, but she was too close to deep sleep. Her breaths were deep and regular and he wondered if she would even remember saying it when she woke. He moved her body carefully and let her rest against his shoulder as he studied her face. She reminded him of Fleur in many ways, the tilt of her chin when she looked up at him, the utter lack of fear, the hungry curiosity as well as her innocence. There was something else there too, something much older. She squirmed against him and readjusted her position, her arm tightening around him for a moment. He stroked her back softly and she settled again.

Perhaps she had said it because he was more forceful with her this time. He had wanted her as soon as he got back from his little errand and smelled the sweet scent of her desire it was all he could do not to take her where she stood. Her apprehension had stopped him. Her desire was clear, but her body was adjusting. Leaving her completely alone in the dark had frightened her, but he had needed a moment to remind himself how fragile she was.

The bright red, raised scratch on her shoulder was clear evidence of that. He moved her hair to get a better look at it. The plastic fastener on the strap of her bra hadn't drawn blood but it had come very close. She definitely affected him, though he wondered if that was necessarily a good thing for her. She would adjust to him, he would simply have to adjust to one who didn't heal almost immediately. There would be time after her conversion to explore more fully.

The more he thought about that the more he felt his own apprehension. The thought that she wouldn't adjust to immortality bothered him. She was much stronger than he first credited her with, but even if it was desired the change could be traumatic. He had destroyed several of his own fledglings because they couldn't manage it. She reached up to brush at a trickle of blood on her shoulder. He stopped her hand and licked at the droplet. Kathryn moaned softly, the contentment evident. He felt certain that she would eventually figure it out, and she wondered if she would fear him. Much as he loved to make her heart race the thought of her pulling away from him was not what he had in mind. Something in the way that she touched him told him that she wouldn't, but the thought of losing her was never far from his mind.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked, looking up at him uncertainly. He stroked her cheek softly.

"Just deep in thought." He brushed a few strands of hair from her face and she kissed the inside of his wrist softly. LaCroix suppressed a pleasant little shiver as her tongue darted over the sensitive flesh. Despite Corrina's comment about mediocrity, Kathryn's instincts about where and how to touch him were remarkably accurate.

"You're worried about something though." Her dark eyes were fixed on him. He knew his mind was shielded, even though their link was stronger she wasn't able to read him that way. Still, the look in her eyes said that this was no idle guess.

"What would make you say that?" One finger traced her spine lightly.

"Psychic, remember?" Kathryn laughed softly. "Seriously, you were staring at me, and even though you're subtle you still have these little cues. I'm not sure how to explain it, but something about you kind of shifted. I don't know how to say it." She lowered her eyes, and he lifted her chin again.

"I was deep in thought, but it's nothing that you need to concern yourself with." He kissed her softly. He noticed she was shivering. "Cold?"

"Yes. Can you hand me my shirt please?" He felt her blush as much as saw it. He would miss that afterward.

"No. Get under the covers. I'll be right back." She stayed where she was. "Not cold anymore?" One eyebrow rose slightly.

"It's not that, I just feel a little strange still, moving around naked in front of someone. In front of you." She blushed deeply and he bent down to kiss her softly. He couldn't say he fully understood her feelings, but this prudish modesty about the body had never made any sense to him. He left her there to make herself comfortable in private. She would get used to the fact that he enjoyed looking at her.

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Lord or Master


	19. Questions & Observations

19. Questions and Observations

Kathryn grabbed her shirt after he left the room. She knew he would be upset if she was wearing it when he came back, but at least she wanted it where she could reach it if she needed to get up. She set it on the nightstand and got under the covers, putting the pillows back where they were. When it seemed clear that her body wasn't going to let her get comfortable, she pulled the shirt on and went into the bathroom. After making sure that she wasn't bleeding again she felt relieved, but still took a couple of Tylenol, hoping to ease the ache.

For a few seconds she considered asking Corey how long it would take for her to simply enjoy sex without the pain and ache after, but she rejected almost as soon as it crossed her mind. Corey would only embarrass her. She would ask her grandmother when they spoke again. At least she could trust her grandmother to tell her the truth and not make fun of her.

When she emerged again he was waiting for her. She still found it hard to take the shirt off with him watching though she couldn't understand why. She had practically attacked the man earlier. She wrapped the sheet around herself and settled against him again. He handed her a glass of juice and she drank it as he sipped his ubiquitous red. The comfortable silence was becoming familiar. He took the glass from her when she finished and Kathryn put her head down on his shoulder, her eyes half closed.

"I should daydream more often." She said softly. She felt his chuckle as much as she heard it.

"Was the reality as satisfying as the fantasy?" His arm tightened around her waist.

"The reality was much better." Her fingers traced his chest.

"Were you able to accomplish anything before you started your daydreaming?" He brushed his lips over her forehead.

"Yes. The story is taking shape better than I thought it would. It's still rough and sketchy, but I don't have to force the words out." Her body was completely relaxed against him.

"None of your books read as if you have to force words out." His fingers trailed lightly up and down her back.

"Of course not, but you should have seen all the topics I went through before I finally hit on something Paul wanted to talk about." She laughed softly. "I think I must have started this one fifteen times only to get a page or two in and find he had nothing more to say."

"You talk about him as if he's a person." Kathryn's eyes were closed, but she heard the small smile in his voice.

"I know it sounds crazy, but in a way he is. I don't think of any of my other recurrent characters that way, so I don't know what makes him so special. I think it irks my editor though." She laughed softly.

"Why is that?"

"She says I have made horror distinctly un-horrifying." Kathryn laughed softly. "I tell her that I don't like the horror label and she should find some other genre that fits me better."

"What would you prefer, considering your subject?" His fingers massaged her neck lightly.

"I always wanted to call it what it is, historical fiction." She looked up at him and caught the mild look of surprise. "The fact that Paul is-" She felt the word get caught again. "Is revenant has nothing to do with the stories really. He doesn't behave like some gothic monster and I just can't bring myself to think of him that way."

"What do you believe him to be?" His cool fingers stroked her cheek softly, his eyes curious.

"He's a person with some unusual needs and a very long life." Kathryn stretched a little and closed her eyes again. "Something else that runs in my family I suppose. Grandmother was offended too when she saw 'Horror' on the first book."

Kathryn felt herself drifting off again. He kissed her softly and turned her so that her back rested against his chest. One hand finding her breast and squeezing gently. She moaned softly, and even as close as she was to sleep the possessive nature of the gesture was not lost on her. She squirmed a little and the settled against him again. She wasn't completely comfortable with his possessive side, but moments like this it felt very right and very safe.

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Kathryn was impressed with how easily the story was coming together. She supposed it could be because Corey seemed to have a sudden change of heart and that had eased the feeling of being torn between the two of them, but that change didn't seem entirely normal. Corey tended to hold onto ideas with an iron grip, even if she was completely wrong. For her to do this kind of about face on an issue made Kathryn wonder what had happened. When she had mentioned it to Lucien his reaction hadn't done much to settle her mind either. It wasn't anything that he said or did specifically, but the impression that he knew more than he was telling was distinct. The more she thought about it though, the less sense it made that he would know anything about it. She was simply projecting her own feelings.

In the beginning she had spent a couple of nights at home, even though he made it clear that he preferred she stay there. Kathryn didn't like the idea of just staying there all the time because he said so. It was obvious though that she didn't sleep well without him and after two restless nights she gave in and started sleeping there. She told herself that it was because she had everything she needed to work there now and it was much more convenient than bringing research materials and her laptop back and forth with her every evening and to some extent that was true. If she was honest with herself she knew that at least part of her restlessness came from knowing that she was going against his expressed desire. It still bothered her when he told her what she was going to do, not so much because he was doing the telling but because she was simply accepting so much of it without questioning it. She was becoming uncomfortably familiar with that part of her that jumped to simply obey him. Expecting compliance seemed to be a part of his nature, that didn't mean that _being _compliant was a part of hers.

Arguing with him was useless exercise though, he almost always won and when he didn't it was because he decided to compromise on some minor point. She had never met anyone she couldn't get her own way with just by using simple persuasion. The thought had crossed her mind to try and be a bit more manipulative, but she was sure that he would see through that and she didn't want to jeopardize the closeness that had formed. As difficult as it was for her to accept his control, the thought of losing the unguarded moments that he shared with her was almost physically painful.

There were other things that bothered her too, though they seemed less important as time went on. She had never met anyone that was never warm to the touch. When she did feel the warmth of a bath on his skin it seemed strange and almost uncomfortable in a way. He never ate with her at the apartment and he never seemed to eat or drink anything that she brought in. Several times he had taken her out for a meal. Those were not simple occasions and she was almost too surprised to eat herself. She was sure that he ate somewhere, she just wondered where.

None of the quirks she noticed were things that rose to the level of questioning him. She was sure that if there was something important in it he would tell her when he felt comfortable.


	20. A Gasp of Curiosity

Author's Note: I am not a Latin scholar, so these phrases were obtained from an online translation program. Translations are at the end of the chapter if the meaning isn't clear from the context. Again, if anyone wishes to correct me, I always enjoy learning new things.

psyche b.

20. A Gasp of Curiosity

LaCroix woke with a start, though he didn't know why at first. Then he heard it. Kathryn gasped harshly for breath. She was still sleeping but her back was arched and she was at the edge of the bed. He touched her shoulder softly.

"Kathryn." He listened and could hear her heart pounding. Whatever she was dreaming she was terrified. "Kathryn." He repeated, louder this time.

"OPEM MIHI! LUCIUS, OPEM" She cried. She was still gasping and struggling with whatever nightmare she was having, but her words and the clear terror they held stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. For a moment he couldn't move. She gasped once more and he could tell that her mind was fighting toward wakefulness. He turned the light on and grasped her upper arms, shaking her firmly.

"Kathryn!" She opened her eyes and at first the look of surprised recognition made him think that she was awake. Looking closer though he realized she was still sleeping. He shook her more gently and that look faded as her eyes focused on him. Without a word she curled up against him and he could feel her body shaking. She was still gasping, though now she was trying to catch her breath.

He held her gently, eventually resting against the headboard with her cradled against his chest. The scent of her terror was clear in his nostrils, but that was the only thing that was clear to him at that moment.

He hadn't dreamed since his conversion, and while he had gotten used to the small sounds and movements she made in her sleep the intensity of this nightmare was something he didn't have a reference for. He had read that in sleep the unconscious attempted to master what the conscious mind could not, perhaps she was attempting to master something that frightened her. What he couldn't imagine.

He might not dream, but his own waking was not instantaneous. He told himself that his half-sleeping mind was shocked by the situation and had interpreted something mumbled as clear speech, and then he had spun meaning into the look in her eyes as she regained consciousness. It was a logical, rational explanation. And he couldn't make himself believe a word of it, not now anyway.

He stroked her back and felt Kathryn calming slowly. He pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry." She said when she finally stopped shaking. If his hearing had been less acute he might have missed it.

"Why? As far as I know, dreams and nightmares are out of the control of the sleeper." He stroked her cheek softly and stretched out again. He still held her close.

"Because I should have warned you that I have a recurring nightmare." He could feel her tears against his skin and he tightened his arms around her.

"It's still not your fault." He kissed the side of her head softly. "What do you dream about that's so terrifying?"

"I don't even know, I have a few impressions when I wake up, but they're so disjointed the dream could be about anything really." He stroked her back softly and he felt some of the tension leaving her muscles.

"Tell me." He said softly when it became clear that she wasn't going to volunteer the information.

"I have the impression of pain in my back. I know that I can't breathe, and I feel like there's something over my face because I can feel some kind of rough fabric in the dream, and it's so dark. I've been told that sometimes I call out, but I don't ever remember doing it or what I say. The only other impression I get is of struggling and feeling like I'm about to die." He kissed the top of her head softly. "I should start sleeping at home again." She said softly.

"No you shouldn't. Waking alone from such a dream must be terrifying for you." He wasn't about to let her go, he was comfortable having her next to him now. And the more she told him, the more certain he became that this was somehow tied to the feelings of familiarity that had been tugging that the edges of his consciousness ever since that first night, though he was still thoroughly confused about that. There were things about her that brought Fleur into sharp focus, and others that weren't part of Fleur at all. This new facet only added to the confusion.

"It is, but I've managed ever since I can remember. It's not fair to wake you up every time my unconscious goes haywire." Her arms were tight around him, even as she talked about letting go. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

"When will you learn that you are mine? I am here to shelter you, guide you and care for you and all of those things know no schedule." He kissed her softly and felt her arch against him. "Are you still afraid?"

"No." She looked confused by that answer. "Usually I would be, but with you I feel safe."

"Because you are. Go back to sleep if you can." He turned the light down, but not off. His hand still stroked her back softly.

"Thank you." He could hear the soft quiver in her voice.

"You're welcome, my Kathryn." The rest would bear further thought, but for right now he could tell she was drifting off again. Her arms relaxed around him slowly and he toyed with the idea of moving her, but decided against it. He relished knowing she came to him for safety because she trusted him, not because he was the lesser of two evils. He decided to let her take that comfort in her own way. It had been a very long time since anyone had.

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Kathryn sat in front of the laptop, her glasses sliding down her nose a bit. While she was pinning up her hair the perfect phrase for an important idea struck her and she simply had to record it before it flitted away again. Much as she had tried in the past, there was simply no way to pin down her inspiration for use at a more convenient time. He was still getting ready anyway.

"Kathryn, you'll miss your flight." She recognized the tone as disapproval but ignored it.

"I was waiting for you." She stepped into her shoes and kissed him softly. He looked perfect as usual, and the soft kiss melted the veneer of upset. She was still learning his tones, moods, postures and even slight changes in his scent. Some could be ignored, some could be shifted with a kiss or a touch, and others were best left alone entirely. She didn't fear him exactly, but she got the impression that she would be much better off not trifling with him at certain times. Tonight's mood was because he didn't want her to go.

The Thanksgiving trip had been an undiscussed sore point since the night three weeks before when she told him about her 'date' with Arnold Hyde. The only other time it was mentioned since was when her grandmother had tried and failed to talk some sense into her father. She knew he wasn't happy about it and he didn't want her to go. He knew she wasn't happy about it either but had every intention of going. Discussion of the matter seemed useless and would have only served to upset both of them. Kathryn slipped the laptop and the power cord into her carry on bag with her iPod, cell phone and other incidentals. The worst part was that she didn't know if she could make herself get on the plane.

The thought of being without him left a void in her heart and she wasn't entirely sure that she was going to be able to maintain the air that her relationship with him was a casual friendship. His arms slipped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest.

"You'll miss your flight." His voice was softer and he nuzzled against the side of her neck. She turned and snuggled against him.

"I wouldn't mind, but my father would have a fit." She managed a short laugh and he kissed her forehead.

The ride to the airport was mostly silent, although his hand never broke contact with her body.

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LaCroix hated airports. They were too bright, too loud and filled with too many minor functionaries with the egos of emperors. But, he was not about to send her off alone when he was battling to send her off at all. He didn't question that she would return to him, and he didn't think that her feelings would change in the few days they would be apart, but to him it felt rather like leaving what he valued most in the care of someone he had never met and didn't trust.

It was only very recently that he realized how her ability to read him so accurately had become comfortable. Few looked at him without unease or even outright fear. For the most part that was useful and he liked it. He hadn't fully appreciated how isolated that kept him until she fixed that steady gaze on him. It didn't take him long to see that she fixed that same gaze on the world at large and even though she was shy she could give the impression of absolute fearlessness. It made the difficulties of securing her surrender without resorting to simply suppressing her will well worth it.

LaCroix watched her step through the metal detector and set it off. A tight knot of anger formed in his chest to see her step out of line, raise her arms and spread her legs while a pot-bellied toady examined her. He had purchased slaves without such thorough inspection. He noted though that her dignity never slipped. She collected her things, stepped into her shoes and waved to him before disappearing into the crowd.

He left quickly after losing sight of her.

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Kathryn was lonely even before she got to the gate. She reminded herself that this was nothing unusual; she had traveled alone many times before. The difference now was that she was not coming home again to an empty house. It was comforting to know that he would be there to greet her when she got back and she tried to tell herself how few hours it actually was between now and then. Kathryn bought a cup of tepid, overpriced coffee and sat down.

As she looked around she remembered just how much she hated airports. Noise assaulted her ears from every direction. Despots who paced off territories measured in floor tiles were everywhere. The harsh lighting made everyone look as though she should be in the morgue and not an airport. Maybe Lucien's insulated little world had spoiled her more than she realized. He made it so easy to forget that the whole world wasn't softly lit, quiet and safe-feeling.

She looked at the clock and realized that she still had an hour before boarding would start. Kathryn took another sip of the coffee and looked around at the other people gathering at the gate before she started looking for the book she had picked up impulsively while packing. It was an overly romantic piece of fluff that Corey had given her for her last birthday. Lucien had raised an eyebrow when he saw her intended reading material but he hadn't said anything at the time. That all appeared to be academic now though since the book was gone. Finally her fingers brushed against something silky and unfamiliar.

She brought out a small, rectangular object wrapped in deep green silk. It was tied with a ribbon of the same color. She untied the simple bow and tucked the ribbon into her bag. She unfolded the green silk wrapping and found that it was a large scarf. The barest hint of his scent still clung to it and Kathryn found herself smiling. She tucked it into the back as well and looked at the book. She almost laughed out loud when she realized it was Plato's Republic. Kathryn opened the front cover and a short note fell out.

_Some more appropriate reading material for your journey. Think of me...L_

The mention of appropriate reading material raised her eyebrows. From anyone else it would have drawn ire, not gratitude, but from him it was exactly what she expected. Kathryn dialed his number quickly, barely thinking about what she was going to say.

After a few rings the voicemail picked up. "I am unavailable. Leave a message if you wish."

"Ego gratias ago vos, Dominus." Kathryn was shocked, not only to hear herself speak to him in Latin, but to hear herself call him Dominus. She had done it before, and then she hadn't realized it was going to come out then either. She ended the call and dearly wished she could somehow get into his voicemail and delete the message before he heard it. It didn't seem to bother him, at least not the last time she said it. She was too close to sleep the first time to know how he reacted. Even if it didn't bother him, it bothered her. She wasn't his property; at least she told herself that she wasn't. There were moments when some small gesture reached something deep inside of her that didn't find the 'property' idea unusual or uncomfortable. This was one of those gestures.

She sighed and looked at the book. It was old, but it wasn't as old as the copy she had seen on his shelves. At least this one seemed approachable. She still had time to kill and she could always hope that he would somehow delete the message without listening to it. She decided she would cling to that idea and opened the book.

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LaCroix replayed the message for the third time, a small smile playing on his lips. He could tell from the tone in her voice that her gratitude was sincere, but also that she was surprised at herself for expressing it quite that way. Perhaps there was even a hint of embarrassment there. The few times she had called him 'Dominus' she had been completely unguarded, either from relaxation or from release or both. He had never mentioned it to her, the fact was he liked hearing it from her and he knew that if he called her attention to it she might censor herself.

He replayed the message.

LaCroix was becoming increasingly certain she had some connection to him in his mortal life, though what it was still eluded him. The dream made him think that she was someone he knew immediately before the eruption and his conversion. Much as he tried to place her though, no one seemed to fit. Only the people closest to him would have used his name and of that select group he didn't think anyone had called to him like that. It was true that he might have been a bit preoccupied at the time, but everything else from those moments was still so clear he didn't think that he would have forgotten someone who obviously meant a great deal to him. Though it seemed contradictory that whoever it was would have referred to him by name, and as Dominus.

He couldn't picture her being a gift from someone wishing to curry favor. If such a woman was good for anything other than sexual gratification then she was most likely a spy sent by the giver. He couldn't picture her as a conquered noblewoman hoping to persuade him to be merciful to her people. She had the aristocratic air, but he couldn't picture her begging him for anything. The word was wrong too. He was fairly certain that if she felt conquered she would have used the right word.

His Kathryn didn't feel forced into anything, she simply knew her place. Eventually he would figure out why she knew it as naturally as she did. He listened to her words one more time and felt his lust sharpen. No matter who he found would only provide him with the physical release he needed, but it would keep her safe when she was within his reach again.

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Opem mihi – Help me

Ego gratias ago vos, Dominus – I give thanks to you, Master.


	21. Mr Hyde and the Trojan War

21. Mr. Hyde and the Trojan War

"LaCroix." The gruff, guarded tone still made Kathryn's voice catch in her throat.

"Hi." Was all she could manage.

"Kathryn." His voice warmed immediately and she heard music fade. "I thought you were unavailable this evening."

Kathryn could almost hear him grit his teeth as he said it.

"I'm never unavailable to you, though I am out with the aptly named Mr. Hyde. I'm hiding from him at the moment." She laughed softly. Kathryn had always wondered why there was a sitting room inside the ladies room, now she knew.

"Your father didn't choose well?"

"I'll put it this way, if the Inquisitors had REALLY wanted the heretics to confess they would have talked non-stop about the minute details of estates and trusts and how my father is such a great man." Kathryn rolled her eyes and he chuckled softly. "You know I hate this, don't you?" She could hear the small hitch in her own voice.

"Being bored?" It seemed he wasn't going to make this easy for her. She sighed and forced herself to voice it.

"No, being out with someone other than you. I know that it's only to appease my father, but it feels wrong somehow." Kathryn could feel her cheeks burning as she said it.

"You're message said it all, my Kathryn. I won't pretend that I don't mind, but I'm confident of your feelings."

"Thank you. For the gift and for understanding." She didn't realize just how tense she was until that tension left her.

"So you liked my small gift then?" She could tell from his tone that he knew she did. She could almost see his small smile as she closed her eyes.

"I'm wearing the scarf and the book was incredible." She smiled a little. "Although I did lie to Security."

"Oh? Do they now ask if you intend to read trash on the flight?" He made no attempt to hide the mild disdain in his voice.

"No, but they did ask if I packed everything myself. I'm lucky I didn't run into someone with a Napoleon complex. I would be calling you from jail instead of a perfectly lovely restaurant. Some things are worth the risk though." She laughed softly.

"Petty bureaucratic nonsense." He snorted. "Perhaps people should be forced to walk around airports naked in the name of security."

"Well if that happens I'm not flying anymore." Kathryn laughed softly. "I supposed I should be getting back." She sighed.

"Perhaps your companion isn't used to such sparkling company."

"Maybe if I sparkle bright enough he'll have a seizure and I can leave." Kathryn could almost feel the rumble of his laughter.

"You are a complex and wonderful creature, my Kathryn. Answer one question before you go."

"Anything." Kathryn felt the emptiness returning to her heart again.

"What is the Latin word for Conqueror?" The question caught her completely by surprise.

"Your Latin is better than mine, why ask me?" Her mind was spinning to try and come up with it and wondering what his real reason was for asking in the first place.

"I'm curious if you know the word."

"One of them is Vinco, I think. Convinco and Supero are others, I think there are more but for some reason I always had a hard time remembering those. Why?"

"Just satisfying my curiosity about something." She could hear the little smile in his voice and she knew that was going to be as much of an answer as she was likely to get. "Goodnight Kathryn."

"Goodnight." Kathryn felt the loneliness as soon as she ended the call. She touched up her makeup and made herself go back to the table.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Kathryn's grandmother, Minerva, had asked her opinion on a dress for dinner that night. She should have known it was a pretense. Still, the words weren't accusatory and she wore and amused little smile that led Kathryn to believe that she already knew the answer.

"Arnold Hyde?" Kathryn kept her face impassive as she looked at the clothes arrayed on the bed, just in case she was wrong. "Grandmother, I think someone would have to be very desperate to seriously think they were in love with him." She held up a cranberry silk dress.

"Cranberry on Thanksgiving? Mira's drunken brother would probably try to take a spoonful out of my shoulder." She hung the dress again. "And you know perfectly well that I think Arnold Hyde is less a person and more of a failed science experiment. You also know that is not who I was talking about. I'm wearing the violet suit. Now sit down, we need to talk."

"Grandmother, there's really nothing to say." Kathryn sat obediently and the older woman swept the forgotten array of clothes aside and sat with her.

"Your father just about believes that, but you're good at confusing him. He's only a man after all and frankly there are some things that he's better off not knowing. You know what strange notions he has." Kathryn could see the 'casual relationship' line wasn't going to work. Besides, she had questions of her own that still needed to be answered; Lucien had been sitting with her the last time she had called her grandmother and she hadn't felt as free to talk.

"I don't know if I'm in love with him. I think I am, I know that I miss him so badly now that I almost hurt, even though it's only been such a short time. But there are times when he's so possessive and he always has to be in charge of everything and it makes me crazy because I find myself just going along before I think about it. Besides, you told me that we don't fall in love, we just make a suitable match." Kathryn's heart was beating faster.

"That doesn't apply to you." She waved dismissively at the idea. "You would know that yourself if you would just listen to your intuition. You would probably have a sense of the rest too unless I miss my guess."

"What is my intuition supposed to be telling me?" She was trying not to roll her eyes.

"He's familiar, isn't he?" Minerva said with a little smile. The absolute certainty with which she said it jarred Kathryn.

"Sometimes I think he is, but-"

"Well, there you are. If you intuit on it you'll figure it out." She got up and kissed Kathryn's cheek. "Now go home. They'll start the football game without you."

"Let them, since I'm being so up front there's something else I need to talk about." She said and Minerva sat down again, the little smile still on her lips.

At a little after ten, the cell phone on Kathryn's hip started to play the Moonlight Sonata. When she programmed his ringtone she hardly needed to think about it, that piece of music always brought him to mind. She dried her hands to answer it.

"Hi there." She was smiling as she said it.

"Hello, my Kathryn." She could hear the smile in his voice as well. "I hope you weren't still dining."

"No, I was just helping out with some of the washing up." Kathryn sat down at the kitchen table and tried to keep the little wince off of her face. Her stepbrother Luke had hit her especially hard during the game and the pain in her ribs was enough to make her want to get in bed and not move for awhile. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction though.

"You're hardly a domestic." If it was possible to hear a raised eyebrow in a voice she heard it now.

"I know, but there's only Mrs. MacNamara and sometimes kitchen work is preferable to extended family time."

"Ah. I realized last time we spoke that I didn't make sure that I have the correct information for your return flight." She wondered if it was possible to miss him more than she did at that moment.

"Oh, it's American flight 220. I should arrive at 7:53, but who knows when I'll actually get there." Kathryn's sixteen year old cousin Emma burst into the room, groaning as only a sixteen year old can.

"GOD! Why is Uncle Milo invited every year? He's SUCH a jerk!"

"Because of the Trojan War." Kathryn said without missing a beat.

"What?" The girl looked confused now.

"Go into the library and look up the apple of discord. It should be in the second or third green mythology book on the third shelf, second case. Besides, no one is serving alcohol in there; Uncle Milo won't have a reason to follow you." Emma rolled her eyes and left. Kathryn could hear him chuckling softly.

"The Trojan War?" He asked.

"Well you know the story; it just seems to me like the whole thing wouldn't have happened if the unpopular relative had been invited to the party to begin with." Kathryn laughed softly.

"You never cease to surprise me." She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow night."

"I can't wait." She said, and she truly couldn't.


	22. The Pain of Reunion

22. The Pain of Reunion

No matter where Kathryn went or what was waiting for her she was always glad to be off the plane. She wasn't a nervous flier, and she wasn't claustrophobic, she simply hated being sandwiched next to perfect strangers. Frugal as she was though, she couldn't quite make herself fly first class. It was a minor miracle that the flight had landed on time and she moved as quickly as she dared through the airport. The pain in her shoulder and side had risen to a level just below unbearable, every movement, even breathing, made it worse. She had to find him though; it was almost a physical need. Getting through the secure part of the airport felt like it took ages.

When she finally got to the baggage claim area that need was so strong she was almost convinced that she could sense him. That was impossible of course, she just knew that he was there somewhere and her imagination built a story around that knowledge. When she saw him standing alone at the opposite end of the terminal it was all she could do not to go racing toward him and launch herself into his arms. She clenched her jaw and quickened her pace. He had spotted her as well and was moving toward her. It still seemed like miles, and she almost forgot the pain for a moment.

He pulled her close without a word and Kathryn whimpered sharply against his shoulder. Tears filled her eyes and threatened to fall. While she ached to be in his arms, his tight embrace made breathing seem close to impossible. Reluctantly she pushed away from him, even though the last thing she wanted was to be let go.

"Kathryn, what's wrong?" His eyes narrowed and he looked at her closely. Kathryn tried to catch her breath without being too obvious about it. "Are you sorry you returned?"

"How could I be sorry when coming back to you was all I thought about while I was gone?" She wrapped her arm around his and pressed close. "I played football with my stepbrothers and cousins and I took a REALLY hard hit though." The driver appeared and she handed him the claim ticket for her checked bag and her carry-on.

"You were injured?" He asked, his eyes still narrowed and the question made her think that he didn't quite believe her. Kathryn couldn't say why exactly, but that look and the tone in his voice made her nervous. The driver hurried out the door with her bags and Lucien led her out after him.

"I don't know about injured really." He opened the door and Kathryn held her breath as she got in, trying hard to keep the pain off of her face. "I've got some impressive bruises though."

He got in and she could hear the driver putting the bags in the trunk and then getting in the front. As usual when they were together, the partition was raised. The car pulled away slowly, but the look on his face hadn't changed. He tilted her chin up and studied her face closely. The intense scrutiny sent chills down her spine.

"Lucien, please, you're scaring me." Kathryn realized that she was trembling a little. He kissed her lips lightly and guided her to rest against his shoulder, allowing her to find her own comfort.

"You look exhausted. Haven't you slept?" He took the clip from her hair and started to massage her scalp. She could sense the change in his body and started to feel her own anxiety melting away.

"Not more than a couple of hours a day since I left here." She closed her eyes and moaned softly as his fingers worked lightly over the back of her neck.

"Why?" She could hear the concern in his voice.

"Because my schedule is all out of sync with the rest of the family. It doesn't bother me when I'm here, but they don't seem to understand that not sleeping at night means I need to sleep some other time. Last night I might have slept if I hadn't gotten hurt, I was tired enough, but I couldn't get comfortable. Besides," She looked up at him shyly. "I didn't have you there next to me. It's hard for me to sleep when I'm alone now." He kissed her softly and she felt herself starting to relax. The pain hit her sharply and she winced before she could stop herself.

"Tell me what happened." He spoke softly. Kathryn slipped out of her shoes and drew her feet up under her. Her eyes were closed, one hand slid in between the buttons on his coat, seeking the contact she had craved so much the past few days.

"Just bruises." She replied, not wanting to worry him. "My stepbrother Luke is twenty and for some reason that I have never been able to determine he sees me as his personal nemesis. I intercepted a pass meant for him and he got mad. A few plays later I wasn't paying attention and he conveniently 'forgot' that we weren't playing tackle and he hit me hard enough to knock me into a tree. My ribs on the left side and my right shoulder are bruised." Her voice was even and nonchalant, but she was trembling a little again, this time at the painful memory.

"Why didn't you tell me over the phone?" His kiss was light on her forehead.

"Because he might have heard me, or someone else might have and told him." She looked up at him. "I finished the game, I certainly wasn't going to let it get back to him later that I was in pain."

"You finished the game?" His eyebrow arched. Kathryn shrugged a little and winced that the movement.

"I suppose you could put it down to adrenaline or anger but I would rather have died right there in the yard than give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me." His familiar chuckle rumbled softly. His hand stroked her lower back, bringing tingling relaxation to those aching muscles.

"Such a willful girl." He said softly.

"You expected less?" A little smiled played on her lips.

"Not for a moment." His lips lingered lightly on hers and Kathryn sighed softly. She didn't want the feeling of his mouth on hers to end, but the route they were taking seemed wrong somehow. Kathryn sat up a little more and noticed unfamiliar scenery slipping past the windows.

"Where are we going?" She asked, searching for a road sign.

"My retreat. I thought you might need some quiet after your trip."

"I do, but I hardly have anything with me-" His finger over her lips stopped her words.

"You will have to learn to trust in my ability to plan Kathryn." He was smiling slightly. His planning had been flawless so far, it just felt unnatural to her to trust someone else so completely when it came to arranging her life. She knew that arguing was useless though and she didn't really have the energy anyway.

"I should call my father and let him know that I landed safely." She said simply. He nodded and Kathryn tried not to wince with every small movement it took to get to her phone. She rested against him and wondered why she felt so compelled to wait for his permission for the smallest act as she waited for her father to answer.

"Tom Paige."

"Hi Daddy. Just wanted to let you know that I arrived."

"Katie! You're not driving are you? It sounds like you're in a car." His voice went from elated to concerned in milliseconds.

"I am in a car, but I'm not driving." She glanced up at Lucien. "I have a ride home from the airport."

"Oh." She could tell that there was more that her father wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure how to ask the question and unless he did she wasn't going to volunteer the information. "Look, Luke is really sorry for hitting you like that yesterday." The abrupt change in subject didn't surprise her. It was obvious that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of her being involved with someone of her own choosing. As usual, her grandmother had been right. The less he knew the better.

"No, he isn't. Well, no, I take that back. He IS sorry that he didn't make me cry, but he's generally glad that he did it." Lucien's fingers moved through her hair lightly. Her father sighed deeply.

"Alright, then Mira and I are sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, either one of you. I should go; I'll call you later in the week. Give Mira my love."

"You would tell me if you were really hurt, wouldn't you?" He asked. She could tell the question was meant to throw her off balance. It was something she had seen him do in court, lull the witness into a false sense of security with easy questions and then toss out something completely unexpected to see how he or she reacted. The reaction usually told more than the answer did.

"Of course I would. Why would you ask such a thing?" Her voice was calm and perfectly curious. She hadn't told him or anyone else the extent of her injuries. They WERE bruises, and she had allowed everyone to think that they were minor. He was worried enough about her, she didn't need to give him any more reasons to want her to go back home, or to come to see her.

"I just wanted to be sure. I love you lots Katie." She wasn't sure if he really believed her or not, but she could tell that he would convince himself that he did.

"I love you lots too, Daddy. Goodnight." She ended the call and slipped the phone back into her bag. She settled gingerly next to him again.

"How long until we get there?" She asked, her eyes closing.

"Several hours. Would you like some music?"

Kathryn nodded, exhaustion washing over her like the bubbling Mozart that issued from hidden speakers.

"Get some sleep if you like. I'll wake you when we arrive." Kathryn needed little encouragement. She unbuttoned the cloak and settled it around herself like a blanket. She was dozing in no time.

LaCroix looked down at her sleeping lightly on his shoulder. She was truly his unconquered Kathryn. It seemed like each small fact that he learned about her sparked more questions. He had never wondered about the rest of her family, just the father, stepmother and grandmother. They were the ones that she spoke about most often. The stepbrothers added an additional complexity, but they provided insight as well.

He knew now that she could not have been the conquered noblewoman he had pictured earlier. There was no doubt in his mind that she might have presented herself to him, there was also no doubt that the purpose of that meeting would be an attempt on his life. She wouldn't have even come close to succeeding of course, and the result of such an attempt would have been considerably worse for her. There would have been no reason for her to call to him for help when she would know that it was at his order that she suffered. It didn't tell him who she was, but knowing who she wasn't at least allowed him to winnow away the possibilities.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she slid more deeply into sleep. The admission of her fear surprised him slightly. He had seen her vulnerable of course, more vulnerable than she consciously realized. Hearing her tell him she was afraid was rare indeed. In that moment she was not the only one who was afraid though. He would never admit it to her or to anyone else, but he had been afraid of losing her. Rarely did he feel such affection for anyone; those who had reached deeply enough to entangle his heartstrings were gone. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

LaCroix looked down at her and realized she had fallen into a deep sleep. He brushed his lips lightly over her forehead and closed his eyes. She was not the only one who had slept poorly during their separation. In spite of his immortal nature his rest could be fitful and he still felt the heaviness of exhaustion when it was.


	23. Wounds of Separation

23. Wounds of Separation

Kathryn slowly came to realize that someone was speaking to her, and that they were no longer moving. She opened her eyes to see Lucien looking down at her, that little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"We've arrived, Kathryn." He said softly. Her jaw clenched as she moved, trying hard to hide the pain she was in and feeling as though she was failing miserably. It seemed like all of her muscles hurt. The injured ones hurt from the bruises and the uninjured ones hurt from accommodating the injuries. She had no idea why it was so important to her that he not see her so weak, but as she stepped onto the crushed stone it seemed almost critical. She was careful not to grip his proffered hand too tightly. All of her musings about weakness and pain melted away for a moment when she saw the large stone house. When he had said 'retreat' she pictured a small cottage, but this looked like a grand manor house that one would find in the European countryside.

"Do you like it?" He asked. That little smile still tugging at his lips.

"It's," She found that words failed her as she stared at the house. "It's unbelievable. Is it split into apartments?" She asked. He chuckled.

"I have an apartment in the city. I come here when I want privacy." He led her up the stone stairs. The large door was opened by an older woman in a conservative navy blue dress. She smiled a little when she saw Kathryn, but the smile didn't reach her sharp eyes.

"Anna, this is Miss Paige." He said and turned back to Kathryn, helping her out of the cloak and handing it to Anna. "Anna is my housekeeper."

"I'm pleased to meet you Miss Paige." The polite smile crept a little further toward her eyes.

"Has everything been prepared as I requested?" He asked, allowing Kathryn to look around the entrance hall. Fresh flowers sat in a crystal bowl on a round table. A grand staircase curved up into darkness. Everywhere her eyes fell there was polished wood, polished stone, art, and understated opulence.

"Of course Sir. Will you need anything further this evening?" She asked.

"No. You may leave if your preparations are finished." He spoke coolly but Kathryn hardly noticed. She was used to his cold demeanor with those he thought of as subordinates, and it hadn't taken her long to realize that he thought of just about everyone that way. There were times she wondered how she was lucky enough to get out of that category herself.

"Thank you Sir. Enjoy your evening." She heard the whisper of Anna's thick-soled shoes on the floor as she withdrew, but her eyes were drawn to a large tapestry. It had the look of age, and the scene that it depicted was medieval, but she wondered how it could be in such good condition. She was about to take a closer look when she felt his hand on her arm lightly.

"You can explore tomorrow night. Tonight I think something to eat and then a hot bath will serve you better than wandering around in here." Somewhere in the house a clock chimed two. Kathryn was surprised how late it was. She nodded and he led her upstairs, turning on a light and leading her down to the end of the hall to a set of double doors.

"Does Anna live in?" She asked.

"No. She is part of a small staff that comes in evenings when I'm in residence. Most of them are gone by eleven, but Anna stays until everything is taken care of. She also sees to the maintenance of the house when I am in the city. Tonight I wanted to make sure that there was someone here when we arrived." He opened the doors and led Kathryn into a pitch black room. She shivered a little. Most rooms she had been in were never completely dark. They seemed that way at first, but then eyes adjusted and one could discern shapes and even some details. Not in his rooms though, when his rooms were dark it was as if light suddenly ceased to exist. She closed her eyes and had a sense of space and she could feel him moving around. She reached out for him.

"Nervous my Kathryn?" He touched her cheek lightly and she jumped.

"It's a new place." She reached out for him again, but her hands found only empty air. She wondered how he moved around so easily in such thick darkness, even familiarity seemed a stretch to her tired mind. She heard a door open, and water come on. She could feel herself breathing faster, finally a light came on. She moved toward him and his arms came around her carefully. This time, Kathryn didn't pull away.

"I missed you so much." She murmured against his chest. There was a tremor in her voice and she realized that she was shivering.

"I missed you too, my Kathryn." He whispered against the side of her head. Kathryn felt it as much as she heard it. For a time he simply held her, when he finally stepped back Kathryn looked around the room for the first time. Dark woods, deep greens and touches of golden brown leather met her eyes. She wondered why he bothered with the rest of the house when he had such a spacious sitting room here. The bed was up two stairs and in a curtained alcove. Even though it was set apart, the heavy, carved posts made it the obvious centerpiece of the room. He stroked her cheek lightly and she turned her eyes back to him.

"Do you think you can find comfort here?" She leaned into him again, winced and adjusted her position carefully.

"I find comfort with you. The place is incidental." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. His mouth possessed hers, but very softly. Almost as softly as the first time he kissed her, and it still made her knees weak.

He led her to a small table and she ate two flaky croissants filled with the best chicken salad she had ever tasted, while he sipped a glass of his ever-present red. He asked about her flights and more about her dinner with Arnold and her family. She asked about the goings on at the club and about what he had been reading lately and while she ate they talked comfortably about the small things that seemed trivial, but served as one means of connection between them. When she finished the pineapple juice he set the tray on a small table outside the door. When he came back again he pulled her to her feet and then tugged the hem of her blouse out of her gray pants. She tensed and pulled away when he started to unbutton it.

"I want to satisfy myself that you're not seriously hurt." His fingers continued, Kathryn shivered and held the blouse closed.

"They're just bruises." She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "It's humiliating."

"Who will prevail?" He spoke softly, moving behind her, his hands rested very lightly on her upper arms.

"You'll only worry, and there's no reason to."

"Answer me Kathryn." The note of command was obvious and she knew that she wasn't going to be able to change his mind. He shoulders slumped forward and she lowered her arms back to her sides. "I want to hear it." He said softly, one finger stroked either side of her neck.

"You will." She whispered. He took the blouse from her shoulders she heard the sharp intake of his breath. He unhooked her bra and Kathryn blushed deeply, her hands covering her breasts. She shivered as his cool fingers traced the margins of the deep blue-black bruise that covered her shoulder.

"How hard did he hit you?" He probed the point of her shoulder. His fingers tracing lines of her bones and manipulating her arm gently. Kathryn felt tears slip down her cheeks. She could tell that he was trying not to hurt her, but the bruise made even a soft touch painful.

"I don't know. He plays on his college team, so pretty hard I guess." Kathryn could hear the tremor in her voice.

"Lie down; I want a better look at your side." He went to check on the bathwater and she heard him turn it off. She walked up the two steps and laid down carefully with her arm over her breasts, her eyes closed as she struggled not to cry. He sat next to her and brushed her tears away.

"It just looks bad, nothing's broken." Her voice was small and it trembled as he turned her more onto her side and raised her arm. She knew this one looked worse than her shoulder and it was the more painful of the two. She could hear the fear in her own voice. His brow knitted when he saw the extent of the mark.

"No wonder you pulled away from me." He said softly. His fingers started probing along her ribs. Kathryn whimpered sharply and pulled away.

"Don't." She had started to cry and her voice sounded desperate, even to her own ears. "It's just a bruise."

He brushed her tears away and lifted her chin, looking down into her eyes.

"Kathryn, listen to me, this won't be as painful as you fear it will be if you relax." The pitch of his voice hadn't changed, but it was different somehow. His eyes held hers and he repeated his admonition for her to relax and she felt the worst of the pain recede into a soft gray fog. She attributed it to exhaustion, but in truth she didn't really care why it happened, it was a welcome relief. As she listened to him speak his fingers moved over her side. They weren't gentle and it seemed like the pain should be worse than it was, but she brushed that aside and concentrated on the sound of his voice and the feeling falling into his eyes. Finally, he helped her sit up and pulled her close, the soft edges of the world sharpened again and the pain hit her. She whimpered sharply and he stroked her back in silence until she calmed again.

"Those are both deep bruises, I'm surprised you have no broken bones. Your family wasn't concerned about this?" Kathryn felt herself starting to relax against him, her body trembled less and she felt as though she was able to catch her breath again.

"I don't know if I would say that, none of them saw it. If my father or Grandmother had known they would have insisted I see a doctor. Is the water ready?"

"Yes." He said, letting her go slowly. Kathryn hesitated before getting up.

"Are you," Her voice caught and she blushed deep red. "I mean, will you be joining me?"

"Not just now." He kissed her uninjured shoulder softly. "I want you to relax a bit first. Your things are in the dressing room to the left, if you need anything." Kathryn gripped his hand softly before getting up.

LaCroix would have joined her, but he needed to get better control of his rage first. The part that was directed at the boy would be easy enough to remedy, though it would take planning and a great deal of care to keep his involvement from Kathryn. Killing him would be simple but far too merciful. The kind of planning required to truly make him suffer required more inner stillness than he had at the moment.

The part of his rage that was directed at himself was harder to dispel. He hadn't been there to keep her safe and that was something that he couldn't remedy. The fact that she had no broken bones seemed almost enough to make him believe in miracles, but that fact didn't matter much in the scheme of his guilt.

He had seen worse injuries of course. The battlefield and the training field were not kind places and it was the skill of Roman physicians that kept many of his comrades and later his subordinates alive and marching. From the very beginning he had watched them work with interest, using the knowledge he obtained to care for his own wounds and to make his cruelties more effective. Those lessons hadn't even crossed his mind in centuries, but it all came back as if it was only yesterday when he saw those marks. She hadn't been joking when she called them impressive. Each was larger than his hand; against her slight frame they were enormous.

It was clear now that she was in agony, but she concealed it almost flawlessly. He known battle-hardened men who didn't have that kind of resolve and he was impressed anew with the power of her will. It was clear to him now why that will had surrendered so easily, she was completely exhausted. He wondered why she had been so adamant about keeping the extent of her pain from him. She had mentioned humiliation, but at the time he thought that she had been referring to being undressed. She was not as painfully shy about her body as she had been at the beginning, but she was still self-conscious. Now he wondered if that had been a correct assumption.

His anger had been eclipsed by his need for answers and to his need to make her forget the pain his touch had caused just moments before. When she relaxed she tended to reveal more and the last thing he wanted at this moment was to make his questioning seem like an interrogation to her. Even with the bit of assistance he was able to give her a few minutes ago he knew the past few hours had been very difficult for her. It did make him wonder how he managed to find someone almost as guarded as himself.


	24. 24: Reconnection

24

24 Reconnection

Kathryn sat in the large tub, allowing more tension to slip away with each pulse of the jets. The tub itself was almost exactly like the one in his apartment. The only difference was the color of the deep basin and the style of the hardware. Those small differences barely registered though, she was almost nodding off in the neck-deep water. The sound of the door opening barely caused her eyelids to flutter.

"Feeling better?" He put his hand on her uninjured shoulder and she sat up, moving forward and drawing her knees up. He stepped in behind her and she relaxed again with her back against his chest. One of his hands rested lightly on her stomach, the other rested lightly around her shoulders, avoiding the bruise carefully.

"Much better now." She laced her fingers with his and felt the last bit of her tension slip away. Six months ago if someone had told her that she would miss someone's touch so much it would be almost a physical pain she would have laughed. Now she realized what it was like to ache for someone. He kissed her temple softly. A comfortable silence grew between them, and she got the impression that he was enjoying the moment as much as she was.

"You didn't want me to see your bruises." He said finally. His voice was soft, and the words held none of the accusation that one might expect from such a statement.

"No." She replied simply.

"Tell me why." The commanding tone from earlier was gone, but she knew that she would answer whether it was there or not. For some reason that seemed perfectly natural at that moment. Maybe if she weren't so tired, or so sore, or so in need of him she would have resisted.

"Because I feel stupid and weak and like I shouldn't have let it happen." Her head was turned away, resting against his bicep. One of his hands moved lightly over her arm.

"How could you have stopped it?" She could tell that he was trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"I don't know." She sighed. "But I DO know how Luke is; I shouldn't have let my guard down like that."

"Kathryn, even Rome was attacked. You were in a place where you should have had every reason to expect safety and you were attacked. I can't believe even your fertile imagination stretches far enough to make you responsible for that." His voice was soothing, so was his touch. "Is there more?"

"I don't know how to describe it. When I got off the plane it just felt so important that you not see me so weak. Maybe it was because I'm so tired. Anyway that lasted all of thirty seconds once I saw you so it hardly matters." Kathryn knew that if he hadn't been wrapped comfortably around her at that moment that she would have been shaking. One of his hands stroked her stomach softly.

"You still don't understand that you are mine." His lips brushed the shell of her ear softly. "Part of that means that I will protect you from as much of the world as I can, another part is that you will always be vulnerable to me. You understood that when you called me from the airport." Kathryn gripped his hand and tried to suppress the little tremor that coursed through her. There was a strange comfort in his words, though she didn't understand where that feeling was coming from. Uncertainty had become familiar to her in the past few months.

"I didn't intend to say it that way, when I called you I mean. I just meant to say thank you, even that was confusing, if my father had done something like that I would have been so upset. As soon as I started speaking though all that went out the window. I was hoping you would just delete the message before you listened to it."

"I'm very glad I didn't." She heard the smile in his voice. "Though hearing that and then feeling you pull away from me I wondered if you regretted it, and regretted coming back to me." His fingertips rested just above the margin of her pubic hair. It was one of the casually intimate touches she had grown to love.

"Getting back to you was all I could think about." Kathryn laughed softly.

"You enjoyed the rest of the time with your family though?" His lips were close to her ear. The heat of the water and his soft voice was lulling her to sleep.

"It's always an interesting experience. There was Daddy's family, Mira's family, and Daddy usually invites the closest of Mother's family too, just to make me happy. I have pictures." She felt that familiar chuckle.

"Tomorrow. Right now you need sleep."

Kathryn didn't argue. She let him help her up and stepped into the towel he offered.

"There's a robe in your dressing room, if you feel the need." He kissed her uninjured shoulder softly. He let the water out of the tub and left her alone. She dried off and unpinned her hair before finding the burgundy silk robe in the dressing room. Tired as she was she could tell that most of her clothes from the apartment had been brought and she wondered if they were going to be staying for an extended period or if she just hadn't known what she would need and brought everything to cover all the bases.

She also noticed that there were several new items sprinkled in with the familiar ones. She wasn't entirely surprised by that. He would often give her some item of clothing, but he rarely made a fuss about it. An unfamiliar item would simply catch her eye when she was getting dressed. The robe was new, and like everything else he had given her it fit her perfectly.

She toyed with the idea of taking some Tylenol before getting into bed, but the bath had made her feel so much better and she was so tired she decided to try and sleep without it. Kathryn emerged with the robe wrapped around herself and counted the steps to the bed, dividing the count into before the stairs and after.

"Thank you, this is beautiful." She said indicating the robe as she sat next to him on the bed. It was a habit of his to lie close to her side so that she could curl up in his arms without having to crawl across the bed.

"You're welcome. I thought you would like it." She could hear the pleasure in his voice. At first the gifts had bothered her. Kathryn came from money and from what he saw she presumed that he must have as well, so the cost of the items didn't bother her as much as the frequency with which they appeared and the initial uncertainty if they were a commentary on her own sense of style. Now it was simply a part of their dynamic. Her hand hesitated on the opening of the robe.

"Something wrong?" He sat up behind her, one hand resting on her waist.

"I feel strange sleeping with nothing on. I mean, what if Anna or someone else should walk in?" She was blushing as she said it. They hadn't had a discussion about her being dressed to sleep since the second night time she had shared his bed. It hadn't been easy for her at first, but feeling his cool skin on hers as she slept was one of the things that she relished and now it was like second nature to her. They were alone in the apartment though, here there were others.

"The door is locked, even if it wasn't no one would dare to walk in here, or any room in this house for that matter, if the door is closed. It insures my privacy, and yours." He reached around her and untied the loose bow and Kathryn slipped out of the robe, setting it in the chair at her side of the bed. She settled against his chest carefully. A pleasure tremor coursed through her body and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

She was surprised that she had been able to find comfort so quickly, but as his hands swept over her back softly any discomfort seemed to melt away. He moved her hair aside and Kathryn turned her head a bit more. His lips traveled down over the side of her neck softly until they came to rest at the point where her neck joined her shoulder. Kathryn tensed and whimpered softly at the sharp, stinging scratch, but his arms held her still and then that discomfort was gone too, lost in the sensations of his tongue moving against her skin. Kathryn felt her body go limp and she fell into a deep, much needed, sleep.

LaCroix had intended to make love to her, but her exhaustion was so complete that he had abandoned the idea even before arriving at the house. He was certain she wouldn't have refused him, she never had before. He had been pleasantly surprised that her appetites were so complementary to his own, and while there were times when an unfamiliar act or position brought uncertainty and hesitation, but she always trusted him and her body always responded. His sexual need could be put off for the time being, his need to taste her blood could not.

The tiny scratch he inflicted would look like just that if anyone saw it, a scratch delivered by a ragged fingernail. Such a small wound had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with connection. She still tensed and struggled slightly at the momentary discomfort, but he didn't expect that would ever fully dissipate. It didn't make him question her desire to be there with him in that moment either. In unguarded moments he had allowed himself the fantasy that she felt a kind of connection to him as well. Not in the same way of course, but he knew she experienced deep relaxation that almost always drew her down into sleep before the wound sealed itself.

Holding back hadn't gotten any easier, but it wasn't the right time and this certainly was not the right place to deal with a fledgling. He had no illusions about preserving her mortality indefinitely, and he had no desire to regain his own, but he did have a plan. A plan that was based in logic and sober reason could not simply be abandoned because of an emotional whim. No good ever came of that.

She shifted in her sleep and mumbled something he couldn't quite make out. Her body tensed and she whimpered sharply. His arms tightened around her and he spoke soft, soothing words into her ear. Her body relaxed again, her soft moan made him smile into her hair. It was not one of her recurrent nightmares. Those always unsettled him as much as they unsettled her, though he tried to keep that fact from her. She'd had two more incidents before she left. He was learning that if he spoke to her in Latin while she was still sleeping she woke frightened and she still clung to him as she had the first time, but she was not completely consumed by terror. He couldn't even begin to speculate why without wondering about the larger question of who she was and he was too tired himself to wander down that path at the moment.

Kathryn woke slowly. She realized that her pillow was gone and it seemed like she was alone in the bed. She reached out for something, anything, but found nothing at first. Then her wrist was caught and held fast. She whimpered softly, her mind swimming to wakefulness in the absolute darkness.

"What-?" She tried to turn over, but his other hand on the small of her back kept her face down on the mattress.

"Hush." His tongue traced the shell of her ear softly, but the word was absolutely a command. Kathryn trembled, goosebumps raising on her skin, her breath coming faster, her heart pounding in her ears.

He took his hand off of her back and stripped the covers off of her. Kathryn knew the room was dark, but she felt exposed and vulnerable. She tensed and his fingertips moved softly over her back. His grip on her wrist loosened and then his hand retreated entirely. That hand joining the other one, moving down her back, down over her hips and, down the backs of her thighs. His thumbs teased back up the insides, opening her legs. Kathryn moaned softly, her body responding. Just as quickly as he began to touch her he stopped. He moved over her.

"You're going to get on your knees, and you're going to offer yourself to me." His mouth was close to her ear, the command in his voice absolute. "Do you understand?"

Kathryn was unable to find her voice so she simply nodded. She could feel her body trembling. He reached under her and found one of her hardened nipples. The pressure he applied was perfectly on the border between pleasure and pain. Kathryn whimpered and moaned, feeling the pressure between her legs as well as on her nipple.

"Out loud." The pressure increased slightly and his voice took on a sharper edge as he asked the question again. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes." She heard her own croaking whisper. Kathryn's head was spinning and she realized for the first time since that first night that she was afraid of his desires, but she was also excited.

"Good." His mouth lingered softly on the back of her neck and then he retreated. Kathryn moved slowly, uncertainly. She drew her knees up under her so that her body was folded over on the mattress, then she started to raise up on her hands. His hand pressed her head back down firmly. "I said your knees. Your head is fine where it is."

Kathryn was still for a moment. She was shocked by this change in him. It was true that he was always in control and there had been times when he had extended that control to the bedroom, but even then he was never so demanding. She raised her hips slowly, her body trembling. She felt his weight shift as he moved behind her and a sharp cry escaped her lips when his fingers pressed inside her without warning.

"Relax, Kathryn." His voice was soothing again and his touch was teasing, exploring her from this unfamiliar angle. Kathryn moaned and pressed back against him, feeling her excitement building further. She was right on the edge when he took his hand away and replaced it with the thick head of his erection. In one hard thrust he was deep inside her. Kathryn cried out and moved forward slightly. Her body was tense around him and she whimpered softly. He held still, slowly she pressed back against him.

She forgot her earlier fear and discomfort when he started to move, taking his pleasure as he wanted it from her body. Any thoughts or musings Kathryn might have had were lost in the torrent of sensations and emotions that were flooding through her. She was close to the edge, but she was also overwhelmed by her feelings of surrender. She knew without doubt that he had the power to hurt her if he chose to, but her trust was complete in that moment. She cried out against the bed and felt her own juices wetting the insides of her thighs after her release.

His intensity grew painful, and when Kathryn was certain that her limit had been reached his body pressed her down into the bed, his mouth closing over the unbruised side of her neck. She was effectively pinned under him and his mouth closed hard over her skin. Kathryn cried out in pain, he pressed deep and hard inside of her at the same time. Tears trickled down her cheeks before the pain was eclipsed by the strange sense of connection she always got in these final moments. She worked her hand free and pressed against his head, holding it there.

LaCroix moved off of her carefully. He took more than he had intended, but her heartbeat was still strong and regular. The sleep she was in was deeper than the light doze she sometimes fell into after one of their encounters, but that gave him time. He knew she would be cold, so he started a fire and called Anna to have some juice and orange slices sent up for her, and something for himself as well. This was one of the many moments he was glad to have found a housekeeper with such a malleable mind. He spread the comforter on the small loveseat in front of the fire, waited for the soft knock at the door and waited for the sound of retreating footsteps in the hall. Finally he carried Kathryn over to the fire and wrapped the comforter around both of them.

She sighed and snuggled closer and he smiled. He knew that he had frightened her, and he knew that he had probably hurt her. Even in his mortal life aggression often accompanied his passions. His wife had grown to hate him for it. Conversion often brought out violent passions in those who had never experienced them. In him they had become even more intense. He knew that he could easily kill her if he gave in fully to his desires, but even his control extended only so far. He took a long swallow from the glass and stroked her back softly. Besides, he had noticed that she seemed to enjoy his intensity, even if she paid for her pleasure later.


	25. Warmth

25

Author's Note: The Aeneid is an epic poem was written by Virgil sometime between 29 and 19 BC. It links the fall of Troy with the founding of Rome, as well as reinforcing the idea of return to traditional Roman values as espoused by the emperor Augustus.

psyche b.

25. Warmth

Kathryn shifted slightly and groaned at the aches that seemed to encompass her whole body. She snuggled closer to him and concentrated on waking more fully. It was more of a struggle than usual but finally she forced her heavy eyelids to open. She shifted again and the ache in her ribs and shoulder eased, the ache between her legs still throbbed dully.

"So you are awake." He kissed her softly and Kathryn sighed against his mouth. His hand rested on the swell of her bottom. "I thought I was going to have to wake you."

"You already did that once tonight." She smiled a little and blushed deeply. Kathryn wondered why he had brought her over to the fire, but decided that it didn't really matter. She was warm and comfortable and he was there holding her. All was right with the world at that moment.

"You had objections?" His eyebrow rose.

"I didn't say that." She squirmed a little. "I guess I was just a little surprised." He handed her the large glass of juice and Kathryn reached to take it. For some reason though her hands seemed too weak and trembly to accept the large glass. She shook her head.

"I'll have it later." She said.

"No, now." He held the glass to her lips and Kathryn drank. The juice wasn't as cold as usual and she wondered how long she had been asleep. Even after she was starting to feel a bit better she let him hold the glass for her until she finished it.

"Thank you." She said and rested against his shoulder again, her eyes were closed but she felt more alert than she had a few minutes before.

"You're welcome." He kissed her softly and Kathryn shrugged out of the comforter. One leg rested casually over his, the comforter still covered her bottom.

"I've missed this, just being close to you like this." Kathryn reached for an orange section.

"I've missed you as well, my Kathryn." He moved the comforter off of her the rest of the way and Kathryn felt herself blush, but she didn't move to cover herself again. His hand wandered lightly over her back, hip and thigh as if he was refamiliarizing himself with her body. She sighed contentedly, her fingers stroking over the planes of his chest and stomach.

Kathryn heard his soft sigh and she brushed her lips lightly over his jaw. His lips toyed with hers lightly as his hand moved up the inside of her thigh. She whimpered and retreated slightly as they brushed against her hypersensitive lower lips. His mouth captured hers more fully and he drew her back against him. Kathryn's hand drifted lower on his stomach and she stroked his hardening shaft softly. One of his cool fingertips was starting to insinuate itself between her swollen lips, teasing and tickling her slick petals. She whimpered sharply as it pressed inside her, trying to retreat from the discomfort. His mouth had grown hungrier and her hand stroked him more firmly, hoping to draw out the release he obviously wanted and needed.

He moved her onto her back and opened her legs wide. His hungry kiss stropped her protests, but Kathryn could feel the tension in her body as well as the desire that his teasing touches had created. His lips and tongue teased her nipples lightly and Kathryn arched under him, moaning softly. His tongue trailed lower, exploring her wet folds. Kathryn closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as he brought her so close and then took her over the edge. She cried out, gripping his shoulders and pressing up against his mouth. As the intensity of her pleasure was easing his tongue pressed inside her leaking entrance. She tried to retreat but he held her still. She whined softly as he gently invaded her sore opening. Finally his mouth retreated and he pressed the head of his erection against her again.

"No, please, I hurt from before-" His mouth found hers, stopping her words and reassuring her at the same time. His hands stroked her quivering body, teasing her nipples and the nub of her pleasure until she relaxed. He entered her slowly, and Kathryn tensed and whimpered sharply. He pressed deep inside of her and stayed there, slowly she felt herself relaxing around him. He moved slowly and she moved under him, a sharp cry escaping her lips as she climaxed around him, her legs around his waist. He pressed deeply inside her and shuddered, his familiar low growl sending shivers through Kathryn. He moved her slowly to straddle him, still buried deep inside her. Kathryn shivered and snuggled close. There would be time to feel the deep ache later, right now she didn't want to break the connection between them.

Kathryn was working and LaCroix was pretending to read as he observed her. The house had impressed her, but not in the way that one is impressed when they are out of their element. The rudimentary research he had done about her father told him that Kathryn Paige was most definitely accustomed to the finer things in life, she simply chose to live modestly. Now, seeing her barefoot and comfortably at ease among the artwork and antiques, he wondered if there was anywhere that she would be completely out of her element.

Her eye had impressed him. For one who claimed little knowledge of art she had the uncanny ability to pick out the especially rare pieces in each room. She also made mention of other pieces though, the ones that held less intrinsic value and more personal value. How she knew which those were mystified him. When he asked her she hadn't been sure herself.

"It's different for every piece." She had answered after thinking for a few minutes. "Some are displayed more prominently. Sometimes you stand in front of the piece, even if it's not the most obvious place in the room to stop. Sometimes the object just strikes me in some way. I know that's not very helpful." She laughed then and he realized how he had missed her easy laugh in the past few days.

Her eye had startled him as well. When he brought her into the conservatory, instead of being drawn to the view from the glassed in cupola she walked immediately to a bust that was shrouded in shadow.

"Is that you?" She turned on a nearby lamp and looked more closely before he'd had a chance to respond. "No, I see it's not now. This person is too old and kind of jowly, still, there's something about the brow and the shape of the nose that resembles you."

He had smiled, but the fact was she was right. It was him and it was not his favorite image of himself either. The sculptor thought the face of a general should hold more 'age and experience' than his own face held. Being that he was not fat or elderly he had been understandably offended. Perhaps some would consider the revenge he exacted extreme, but if the man had used his hands properly he would have been allowed to retain them. He knew he should have destroyed the ugly thing then, but something had interrupted him, exactly what was gone from his memory now. Whatever it was had seemed important at the time, and his attention had been taken long enough to save that particular piece.

When it was unearthed, he had gone to great lengths to possess it. Not because he was glad to see it again, but because he couldn't bear the idea of strangers looking at it in some museum and believing that General Lucius Terentius was a soft old man. Now, ugly as it was, it had become one of the few tangible pieces of his mortality that he had left, and he was loathe to destroy it. He had explained it away to Kathryn as a lucky find. That he had seen the slight resemblance and decided he had to have it for that reason. She had accepted that, the age of the piece was clear to her when she was having her closer look so there was no reason to think he was being dishonest. Privately, he knew that if his heart COULD race, it would have been.

He had saved the library for last. It was easily his favorite room in the house and he was curious to see her reaction. She did not disappoint him. She stood in the middle of the large room and turned slowly, taking it all in. The room itself was the largest in the house, the glass fronted, climate controlled shelves started three feet off the floor and continued to where a ceiling would have been, but in here the second story was open as well. A spiral staircase led to a catwalk circled the room to access the upper shelves. He hadn't read many of the books on those shelves in several centuries. There were probably still a few he had never read. She had explored for a time and then started writing.

LaCroix didn't think that he would ever understand what inspired her. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it and when he asked he found the answers she gave even more confusing. He was sure that it had something to do with the blending of the female mind and the mind of a writer and he had settled himself to the idea that it would always be a mystery to him. Whatever the process was though, what she produced made it seem as if she was staring into the past itself instead of the screen of a 21st century laptop.

He was always careful with the comments that he made, and it still surprised him how she welcomed his criticisms. It was obvious that she had done her research, but she had not had the span of time he had to familiarize herself with his shelves. Often she overlooked sources, other times they were in languages she didn't read yet. He had already made the determination to teach her, even if he hadn't told her. One thing he could never fault was her attention to detail. Her scenes, though still rough in places, held a sensual quality that surrounded the reader with a moment out of time that left a palpable sensation on the skin. When he reached the end of the passages she had given him he always felt somehow jarred back into the present and dearly wanting more of her vision of the past.

Her Paul interested him as well. He knew that the character was far more than a cookie-cutter immortal from her previous books, but this one revealed even more about the man. LaCroix had been shocked to learn that Paul was a Roman contemporary of his and he thought for a painful moment that she had read his own past in some way. When he read on he realized that while there were loose similarities there were more differences. Still, he could easily see himself socializing with Paul if they had found themselves in the same part of the Empire at the same time. Of course he had asked her where she got the idea. She had looked at him like the thought had never crossed her mind. "I don't know, that's always been who he is." Was all she had been able to say and he could tell that it was as much of an answer as she could give. Paul did have his quirks that made him a bit "off" as a vampire, but that just meant that he could let her ripen fully before plucking her into eternity.

He also noticed that when she was deep in thought she rubbed at the wounds on her neck. Her unconscious knew they were there, and he wondered if her unconscious also knew what they were and how they got there.

LaCroix glanced up when he heard the music she was listening to stop. He was still amazed by the range of her musical tastes. This evening she had been listening to something that might have fit in at the club, though he was unable to put a name to it. Later the conversation might turn to one of Debussy's lesser known pieces and she would be as involved in the discussion as he was. She yawned and stretched carefully before moving over to the couch where he was sitting. She curled up next to him, her head resting on his thigh.

"Tired, my Kathryn?" He asked, one hand moving through her hair lightly as he smiled down at her. Very few people felt so free to approach him. Once he had gotten over the initial shock, he found that he rather enjoyed it when she would curl up with him unexpectedly. The buried and defended warmth in him responded to her as it had responded to so few others. Nicholas had the power to reach it, and if he had been a wiser man he would have let the boy see it.

"Yes. I hope I'm not getting sick, I'm cold and achy and I just can't seem to concentrate." She yawned again as she spoke. He wanted to reassure her that she was not getting sick, that it was just the affects of her injuries and depleted blood volume, but he knew that would bring up more questions than he wanted to answer. He took the throw from the back of the sofa and put it over her. She relaxed and sighed softly. "Thank you."

"You haven't slept properly in days. A nap would do you good." She nodded and he watched her breathing deepen. His fingers curled idly in her hair and he was surprised to feel his body beginning to respond to her nearness, in spite of how well-sated he was from earlier in the evening. Even before his conversion he had passed the age of boundless sexual energy. After, he was pleased to find that the passage of time brought no more decline, but the change had restored nothing to him either. The way she excited him earlier had been a pleasant surprise, even if it had been unintentional on her part. She was bruised and fearful the second time and he had felt a pang of guilt until she responded and welcomed him. Kathryn moved a bit and then sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"No, I'm just not very comfortable. Recent football injury." She laughed softly and he pulled her gently into his arms.

"Better?" He smiled slightly as she snuggled against his chest. LaCroix found himself smiling against her head.

"Much, but now you can't read your book." He could feel her body relaxing and molding to his. "What are you reading, anyway?" She squinted at the book.

"Virgil's Aeneid. Have you read it?" He asked, stroking her back.

"Yes and no. I had to translate part of it in school. You know how it is though; when you HAVE to read something you never enjoy it as much as when you WANT to read it." Her eyes were slightly open, but her voice was relaxed and had taken on the dreamy quality it held before she fell asleep.

"You should pick it up again. But for now, relax and listen." He kissed her forehead softly and opened the book. He barely needed to look at the words, but she might question why he knew them so well. "Arma virumque cano,-"

"I'm not awake enough to translate-" He laid a finger lightly on her lips and she fell silent again.

"Don't think of it as translation, just listen. You understand more than you think you do." He waited for her to put her head down and then began again, speaking in quiet tones as one would to a sleepy child. She sighed deeply and he smiled at the comfort of the moment.


	26. I Feel

26

26. I Feel….

Kathryn bounced down the stairs in her running clothes and found her iPod in her handbag. They had been at the house for several days now and she found herself feeling much better than she did when they arrived. She was rested and even though the bruises were still there, they had begun to heal, in short, being still was no longer what she needed. She slipped the iPod into her armband carrier and pulled on her sweatshirt. She adjusted the cord from the ear buds to come through the neck of the shirt. Her hand was on the door handle when she heard him coming down the stairs.

"Going somewhere, Kathryn?" She turned and smiled to see him wearing the sapphire blue cashmere turtleneck she had given him. It wasn't a color he would have chosen for himself, but as soon as she saw it the shade made her think of his eyes. She was pleased to see how well it suited him.

"Just out for a run, I feel like I need some exercise. I told Anna in case you came down after I left." She waited for him to get to the bottom of the stairs and kissed him softly. In a way, she had hoped to leave before he came down, just to avoid this conversation. In the city she agreed her regimen was probably not safe, so she had joined a twenty-four hour gym with an indoor track. She could tell that he still wasn't happy about her running alone, and he wasn't happy about her running with Corey, but he hadn't been able to come up with any more credible objections either.

"I know, she told me. Do you think it's wise to go running in the dark when you don't know the area?" He stroked her cheek softly.

"Well, you said your access road is about a mile and three quarters. I think I can manage to follow a road straight out and straight back without getting into too much trouble." She kept her tone light, but even though his expression hadn't changed she could tell he wasn't satisfied with the answer. She wasn't satisfied with the fact that Anna had informed on her either, but she knew she was going to have to let that go.

"You know I dislike you running alone at night." His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his finger stroked the side of her neck. It was a familiar gesture, and it usually meant that he was trying to convince her of something or change her mind.

"I know, but this isn't the city. There's no one around for miles out here, I'm not going onto the highway and you said the gate is always closed and locked." She was trying to sound reasonable, but she didn't like where this was going. Kathryn hated to disagree with him, it only got them both upset and she never won anyway.

"That doesn't change how I feel about it Kathryn." His tone was calm, but that didn't surprise her, he rarely raised his voice to her in anger.

"Then come with me." Her eyes fixed on his.

"Kathryn-" She recognized the slight change of tone but didn't back down.

"Lucien." Her own voice holding her frustration, she could see his surprise at hearing it. "I don't know how you stay in such fantastic shape, but I need exercise or I'll get flabby. If I could go to the gym I would, but out here that isn't an option." His eyes were on hers, appraising the situation and weighing her words. Finally, he kissed her forehead softly.

"We'll discuss this further when you return." He said. Kathryn didn't hear it as a threat really, but she knew she hadn't heard the last of the subject. For whatever reason she still hadn't been able to clearly label or understand she hated going against his obvious wishes, and she was usually willing to compromise. Her health and how she felt about her body was not up for discussion or compromise though.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand and turned on the music. Kathryn walked quickly through the house and started a long, easy stride once she got out into the chilly night.

LaCroix followed, of course. He knew that she was essentially right. There was probably nothing out here that would hurt her, but "probably" had never been a word that he put a great deal of faith in. Her presence in his life and on the periphery of the community had been noticed, although no one would dare question his relationship with her. Being one of very few remaining ancients and arguably the most feared had its privileges. His status was a double edged sword for her, though. Anyone who was bold enough, or foolish enough, to strike at him would use her to do it. Losing her now wasn't something he even allowed himself to contemplate. To have her brought across and allied to another by blood was equally unthinkable.

High above her, he was impressed with the pace she set for herself and the ease with which she maintained it. He smiled a bit in spite of his dark musings. He had to admit that he liked her body as it was. Her firm muscles gave her body a softly curving definition that was missing from many very slim women. And, if he was honest with himself, the feeling of those firm muscles under her silky skin when she wrapped her legs around him and drew him deeper into her core was one of his favorite sensations. LaCroix knew he enjoyed her body, but he hadn't thought of the care that went into maintaining a mortal body in good physical condition in quite some time.

Kathryn would be in sight of the house in a few minutes and he went back inside to wait for her to find him. Precisely what he would say when she did wasn't obvious, but he wanted the matter settled before the sun rose again. Time with her was too precious to him to waste it in trivial disagreement.

Kathryn sat in the tub, washing the sweat out of her hair. It was much easier when he was with her but she was getting more used to managing her hair without a shower. One of these days she would have to try and convince him that having one wouldn't be such a bad idea, but tonight was not the night to have that conversation. She hadn't bothered to turn on the jets or to fill the tub as completely as she would have if she thought he might join her for a leisurely soak. They frequently had serious discussions in the tub, but she got the impression that this would not be one of those discussions.

The house had been absolutely silent when she returned. She had considered looking for him immediately, but decided to catch her breath and clean up a bit first. It had given her an excuse to put off the inevitable. He had never given her reason to be afraid of him, and even though she could tell that he made other people uneasy she still felt completely safe in his presence. She knew that it was more discomfort at having ignored his expressed desire. Kathryn had been polishing her technique for getting her own way for as long as she could remember, and it using those techniques had never given her so much as a twinge of guilt. There was something about him that made her hesitant about it though. Maybe one day she would understand her feelings. For the moment, she was going to have to think of something to say.

Kathryn slipped into a gray tank top and pulled a matching sweater over it. She pulled on her favorite pair of black jeans and then dried her hair. She fussed with it for awhile and finally decided to leave it loose around her shoulders, he seemed to like it best when she wore it down anyway. After fussing with it for a few more minutes she found she had no more reason to remain closeted in the bathroom. She sighed and began to wander silently through the house in her bare feet.

She started out moving at her normal pace, though with each place she went and didn't find him she found that she was moving more slowly. Finally, in the glassed in part of the conservatory she stopped and tried to gather her thoughts. She was shivering a bit as she stared at the path of the Milky Way across the sky. He gripped her upper arms lightly from behind and she gasped, turning quickly. He pulled her close and she snuggled against his chest.

"You changed your scent." He said softly. She smiled, always amazed at how he noticed even the most subtle changes.

"Yes. Do you like it?" Her voice was more tentative than she expected it would be.

"It's lovely. What's it called?" His fingers moved lightly through her hair.

"Perfect Bliss." Kathryn sighed and pressed a little closer, but proximity didn't keep a little shiver from down her spine. "I guess I was feeling hopeful when I put it on."

"It suits you. You shouldn't be barefoot on this stone floor though. Come into the library." Kathryn allowed him to lead her with his hand on the narrowest part of her waist. She was only partially surprised to see that the room was lit softly by the fire and a few scattered candles. She had noticed how bright lights seemed to bother him. He pulled her down next to him in a large, overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace. Kathryn put her head on his shoulder and slowly felt the tension slipping away. For several long, silent minutes he just held her.

"Were you hiding from me, my Kathryn?" He finally asked softly.

"No." She said quietly. "I was looking for you, but I didn't know what to say so I just kind of stopped to collect my thoughts for a few minutes." Kathryn squirmed and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, despite her best efforts to be still.

"Did you enjoy your run?" He asked, one hand stroked her back gently.

"Yes. No. I don't know." She sighed and pressed a little closer against him. "It's confusing."

"Why? Were your injuries protesting?" She could tell from his subtle shift in tone that he already knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to hear her say it. Sometimes Kathryn wished she didn't read him so well.

"No, physically I felt fine. It's confusing because part of me feels like I should be apologizing and part of me feels like I have nothing to apologize for." She sighed softly.

"I know you're willful Kathryn, but I'm not accustomed to being defied." She could tell that she had upset him, even though his voice was soft.

"I know, and I don't want to fight with you over something as silly as a run. Fighting with you at all always feels wrong, to do it over something trivial makes it worse." Her body was tense. "I feel like you were asking me to do something that I'm not able to do, though. I can't ignore my health."

He rubbed her lower back softly and she wondered how he always knew where she was most tense.

"We will come to an arrangement while we're here. You mentioned the city, are you anxious to go back?" Kathryn relaxed against him, relishing the soft feeling of the sweater and his firm body underneath it.

"I'm not anxious to go anywhere really. It's weird, getting home was all I used to think about. It didn't matter where I was or who I was with either, I just wanted to be home. When I was home I didn't realize how empty it was."

"And now?" He lifted her chin and she noticed the unusual way the soft light glinted off his eyes, she squirmed next to him.

"Now," She swallowed hard and tried to gather her courage. "Now I think I could be anywhere in the world and feel at home if you were there too."

He was silent for a moment and she turned away, moving quickly to get up.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said-" He held her tightly and his mouth came down firmly on hers, his intent immediately clear. She moaned and arched under him, her tongue caressing his softly. Her hands moved under his sweater and he slid his arms out of it, shedding it as she pulled hers and the tank top over her head.

LaCroix looked down at Kathryn's naked form as she snuggled next to him. The firelight played over her pale curves, highlighting a new area each time she shifted. She wasn't quite sleeping, but she was comfortably drifting after her release. He softly licked the wounds on her shoulder and a little shiver coursed through her. The depth of her pleasure always added a certain richness to her blood, but that wasn't the only reason he enjoyed these moments so much. She was always so unguarded right after and the self-consciousness that usually plagued her was suppressed for a few precious moments.

This time there was more though. She hadn't said that she loved him earlier, in the end she hadn't needed to. It was in her blood along with her passion and her relaxation. He had been avoiding the word, even in his own thoughts. It had brought him nothing but pain and misfortune in the past. He told himself that he cared for her, that he was fond of her, that he was accustomed to her presence, that he relished her closeness and was comfortable with her ability to read him so clearly. Now he had to admit it to himself, he loved her. Telling her was something he wasn't ready to do yet and he hoped that she wouldn't ask him to. He knew his inability to voice it would hurt her.

She shivered against him and he laid the sweater he had been wearing over her. The color had surprised him, but even though he wouldn't have chosen it for himself he was pleased at how well it suited him.


	27. Picture It

27

27. Picture It

Kathryn stretched comfortably against him. The worry of such a short time before had dissolved completely She still didn't know the origin of some of her feelings, but that was something she found she could live with. She kissed his collarbone softly.

"Why is everyone afraid of you?" She asked, surprised to hear herself say it out loud. It was something she had wondered about, but it seemed like one of those things that polite people didn't discuss. His hand stopped moving in her hair for a split second and she knew that she had surprised him as well.

"Are they?" His fingers traced her ear lightly. She had said it now and there was no taking it back; she might as well get the answer. She looked up at him with her direct gaze.

"You know they are. That guy with Corey the first night we met saw you and left. You move through crowds like you're parting the Red Sea, which I'll admit is very useful sometimes. Everyone seems anxious around you though, even if they don't know you. I know for awhile there you had Corey thinking that you were some sort of sinister force." His finger traced her lips softly, silencing her and gauging his own answer.

"Not everyone sees me the way you do, Kathryn. In fact I think those who know me in other capacities would say that you have a most unique perspective." She could tell that he had given his answer and wasn't likely to add to it, but that didn't mean she was satisfied with it.

"That sounds like something my grandmother would say when she's trying to be mysterious." She laughed softly and his eyebrow rose.

"A rather odd comparison at this particular moment." He pinched one of her nipples and Kathryn shivered pleasantly and pressed closer for a moment.

"Maybe it does sound a little strange." She smiled and squirmed against him. "She thinks that I somehow inherited the family intuition and that if she talks in riddles I'll have to use it to figure out what she's saying."

"This is your father's mother?" His hand rested possessively on her bottom, but Kathryn had become accustomed to that particular gesture. She relaxed against him.

"No, my mother's mother. My Gramma Paige and I aren't close." She looked up at him very seriously. "I'm a disgrace to the family name because I refuse to get married and I insist on writing pornographic stories."

"I wasn't aware that you wrote pornography." He laughed softly.

"Neither was I, imagine how surprised I was to find out." She laughed softly and pulled the sweater over her head. It fit him but on her it was long enough to preserve her modesty and then some. Kathryn kissed him softly and got up, he let her but didn't let go of her wrist.

"I need something to drink, and I never did show you those pictures I promised. I've been talking about these people so much you should at least have some idea who I mean. Can I bring you something?"

"Not just now." He released her and she could feel his eyes on her as she walked out of the room. She tried not to let his scrutiny make her shiver, she turned her mind to wondering why he always grasped her wrist instead of her hand. It made her wonder if he was used to forcing others to comply. She brushed the thought aside, she couldn't imagine anyone resisting him long enough to require him to use physical force, his presence should be enough.

Kathryn was glad that Anna wasn't in the kitchen when she poured the juice. Although the fact that she slept in Lucien's bed made it pretty obvious that they were more than just casual acquaintances, but she didn't really feel the need to flaunt the fact either. She pulled a thick envelope of pictures out of her bag and walked back in to find him again. She was only slightly surprised to see him still undressed and stretched out comfortably, his feet resting on the oversized ottoman.

"Don't you ever get cold?" She blushed a little and settled against him again, letting him pull the sweater over her head.

"In front of a fire?" He replaced the sweater with the throw from the back of the sofa. She hadn't noticed it next to the chair. He must have gotten it while she was gone. "Besides, someone left with half of my clothing."

"Well, you said it yourself, cold floors." Kathryn nodded and tried to look serious. He chuckled softly.

"You're very shy for an author of pornography." He stroked her hip softly under the throw.

"I know, but that's part of my charm." She laughed softly and kissed his lower lip, he deepened the kiss and Kathryn sighed contentedly, allowing herself to get lost in it. Finally, she remembered the pictures in her hand. "I didn't realize we took so many this year." She shuffled through the stack quickly. "Oh, we didn't. The pictures of my trip to Jamaica are in here too."

"When did you go to Jamaica?" He moved a few stray tendrils of hair from her face.

"I had just turned twenty-one, so close to three years ago now. I just keep forgetting about the pictures. I'll show you those too, but Thanksgiving first. I won't bother with all the aunts and uncles and cousins, there are too many of them." She found a group shot of photogenically posed people and pointed out her father, Mira, her stepbrothers and paternal grandmother. The next photo showed the outside of the house in the background with the football game going on the foreground. There was one of Kathryn surrounded by a sea of Cornish game hens with Mrs. MacNamara. Finally, she found the last one that she wanted to show from this set.

"This is my mother's mother, Minerva Bettancourt. The lady in the painting is my mother, Octavia. And the other one is me." He took the photo from her, studying the three women.

"You all look very much alike, don't you." He said quietly.

"Not all of us, though we do tend to have very strong genes sometimes." She sipped the juice as he studied the photo in his hand. "Usually it crops up once a generation. My great-grandmother said it had something to do with destiny, I think she said that so I would stop asking so many questions. So what about your family?" She rested against him, looking up into his eyes.

"I have no family left." He stroked her spine softly and she noticed the sadness around his eyes as he said it. Kathryn felt like there was more to the story, but if he wasn't going to volunteer it, she wasn't going to press the issue.

"I'm sorry." She said with simple sincerity.

"Family is more than who you're born to Kathryn, it's who you bring into your confidence, who you share your existence with." His lips found her softly and she settled comfortably into the kiss. "Now, tell me about Jamaica. I have a hard time picturing you wanting to go there."

"Well, I didn't really. The second book had just come out and I was all set to start on the third but Grandmother thought that I was working too hard. So, for my birthday she said she would send my cousins Amanda, and Sarah and I anywhere we wanted to go as long as we agreed on the place. They wanted Jamaica and I was outvoted." She laughed softly.

"Where did you want to go?" His smile was soft.

"Europe, of course." Kathryn was a bit surprised he would even ask. "I wanted to see all the places I talk about in my books, or at least some of them."

"You've never been to Europe?" He looked somewhat shocked. "The way you describe locations I was certain that you had seen them."

"No, I look at books, old maps, new maps, at home I have transparent map overlays of major cities in different eras. When I want to get a feel for layout I put the old over the current, or the closer to current as the case may be. The rest is imagination. I did almost go to France when I was sixteen though, Grandmother got the idea that I should spend a semester there, but my father absolutely refused." She laughed a little at the memory.

"You must have been disappointed." His fingers stroked through her hair lightly.

"Not really, I don't speak French. I don't know how Grandmother thought I would manage or what gave her the idea in the first place. She didn't speak to Daddy for months after that though; I think she was more disappointed than I was."

"So for your trip you wanted to go to Paris?" Kathryn felt like she was melting against him.

"I wouldn't have minded. My great-grandmother was the most recent family genealogist; she said was able to trace our roots back there to the thirteenth century. Frankly I don't know that anyone ever saw any documents or if any even existed in that time, so I'm not sure that's entirely reliable. I wanted to go to Rome though. Amanda and Sarah said they would absolutely not be dragged from one pile of old stones to another while I took notes, so I ended up sunburned in Jamaica." She held up the first picture and began to describe the trip.

LaCroix listened to Kathryn's deep, regular breathing as she slept next to him. He would have been perfectly content to hold her there by the fire for the rest of the night, but eventually she got up and ate and then worked a bit. She had reached something playful in him that hadn't been released in a very long time. The way she behaved after though he could tell that his light mood hadn't changed her concept of her place with him. He dearly hoped that nothing would change that. He had never shied away from power struggles and he almost always eventually won, but he had no desire to make her one of the casualties of his personal wars.

Her brush with time in France had seemed like an idle comment to him when she shared it, but it had played on his mind until he did the math and realized that she would have been there during a period when he had spent a great deal of time there. It made him wonder if he would have met her, and what he would have done if he had. Perhaps nothing, she might not have caught his attention in the same way. Perhaps he would have felt the same pull of familiarity he felt now and she would already be his. It was impossible to tell, but it was a tantalizing coincidence.

The photos had been revealing. Of course he had never seen her in the sunlight and the photos of her in the tropical sun had been a curiosity. He was not prepared for how much she clearly hated it. While her cousins frolicked in swimsuits, she wore large hats and light clothing that covered her from neck to toe. She hid in the deepest pool of shade she could find, or remained inside while the cousins played in the surf. In the night shots it seemed as though he was looking at a different person. She was confident, smiling and while she maintained her modesty she exposed more skin than she had during the day. He no longer felt that tiny nibble of guilt for taking her out of the light.

The photos of her family told an interesting story too, even the ones that flashed by quickly. She was always away from the group. At first he wondered why she was wearing a gray jumper that looked more suited to a nun than a beautiful woman, the more he saw her in the pictures though he could see that it was purely practical. She helped the cook serve dinner, she minded the small children and in some of the candid shots it seemed obvious that some relative or other was ordering her to do something.

One of the few times she was in a posed group shot the stepbrother who had injured her so badly had his thumb digging into her bruised shoulder. Her smile was almost flawless though and LaCroix wondered how one so young could have developed such a calm exterior. He had known immortals who took centuries to acquire such skill. The bruises were taking on the greenish cast of healing injuries, but he knew they still pained her sometimes. She never said anything about it, but the way she quickly shifted against him when a touch or a hug caused pain spoke volumes.

The picture of her with her Grandmother was the most vivid of the lot though. The resemblance was striking, not only in physical features but in the attitude with which they were carried. In the rest of the photos her eyes were down or she wasn't facing the camera directly. In that one she had been looking directly at the photographer and the pose seemed to transform her. The tilt of the chin, the confident smile, the shape of the nose and the way all three faces held that slightly superior look. He would have recognized the combination anywhere as purely Patrician. He had noticed these things about her of course, but seeing it multiplied threefold had amplified the effect.

On the other hand, her father was completely different. He had the features of someone of the lower classes, possibly even a slave. He had managed to scrape or trick his way into society, but the hallmarks were obvious. The hunger around the eyes that surpassed any hunger LaCroix had ever felt for food, sex or blood, the fine suit chosen for its ability to impress others, and the way he stood with the exaggerated upright posture of someone who had spent a number of years bowing to another. Time could not erase certain inescapable facts about human nature, nor could centuries and intervening generations truly cover the essence of one's beginnings. No matter his expressed pedigree or his education, Thomas Paige had married well above himself when he married Octavia. Mira, whatever her pedigree might be, looked to be more on his own level.

He looked down at Kathryn's sleeping profile. Her pale skin shone softly to his heightened senses, her fine features obvious against the deep green of the sheets. He searched those features for any hint of her father and found none. He wouldn't have felt differently about her if he had, but it was a curious thing.

Her question about why people fear him had been a curious thing as well. It proved that she noticed more than she let on. She hadn't entirely accepted his answer, but she hadn't pushed the point either. He was becoming convinced that Kathryn was more intuitive than even she realized. She began to tremble in her sleep and he tightened his arm around her.

Kathryn whimpered sharply, and then cried out. She began to gasp harshly and he realized she was fighting with her dream again. He turned the light up so that she wasn't disoriented when she woke. She called out to him and he spoke to her softly, reassuring her that he was there and she was safe as he woke her. It still surprised him how easily he slipped into his mother tongue with her. She held him tightly and he wiped her tears away gently.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. No matter how many times he reassured her that she had nothing to apologize for, she still told him she was sorry. He dismissed it.

"It's alright. Do you remember anything else?" His voice was soft, carefully hiding the urgency of the question. He asked the same thing each time she woke, hungry for new details, telling her that if she could remember more it may help dispel the fear.

"An old woman telling me it wouldn't be much longer. Then someone pushed her out of the room." She trembled against him and he pulled the blanket over her shoulders.

"You're safe now." He whispered softly next to her ear. He had noticed that the dream changed her. For a short time afterward she seemed to be younger than her already tender age, and she hid against him in a way that was unusual for her. He allowed her to simply take her comfort as she needed to. He wanted to get to the meaning of the dream, but he could tell that pushing her in these fragile moments was not the way to go about it. Her fear affected him too deeply.

Slowly Kathryn relaxed, her body stretched out against his again and her arms loosened a bit. She kissed him softly and the gesture surprised him slightly.

"Thank you." She said.

"For what?" He stroked her back.

"Being there." She rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed. He wasn't sure if it was the position or the words or something more ephemeral that tugged at his memory.

"You're welcome, my precious Kathryn." He kissed the top of her head softly, even though the reasoning behind her statement made very little sense to him. It was his house and his bed; he wasn't sure where else she would have expected him to be. He looked down at her and decided that it didn't matter. She wasn't sleeping yet, but he could sense that she wasn't afraid either.

"Why weren't you sleeping?" She asked. Her voice as soft as before, but the quality of it had changed slightly. He couldn't have described how, but it was something that he sensed.

"When?" His hand stroked the back of her neck softly, massaging her tight muscles gently.

"Before you woke me." Her fingers stroked his chest lightly.

"How would you know I wasn't sleeping?" He tilted her chin up, searching her eyes for the answer.

"You feel different against me when you sleep. Even if I'm asleep I know it feels different. Besides, you woke me sooner." Her eyes were as matter of fact as ever.

"You amaze me Kathryn." He kissed her lips lightly and smiled at her soft sigh against his mouth. "I have a restless mind sometimes. A side effect of age."

She reached over and turned the light down, but not off. He had noticed that she had become used to the dark, but after the dream complete darkness frightened her.

"Anything I can do to help you relax?" She asked as she snuggled against him again. He knew the question wasn't merely what she thought of as the polite thing to say, if he expressed a desire she would have done her best to fulfill it. His arms tightened around her.

"No, my Kathryn. Get some sleep."

She nodded and he knew she would be drifting off again in minutes. He held her close, his fingers laced with hers as he slipped into his own deep sleep.


	28. Impromptu

28

28 Impromptu

Kathryn woke alone the next evening. It was unusual for him to leave her completely alone but then she saw how late it was, and the note that he left said that he had some business to attend to. She dressed and went for a run, then had a leisurely soak and some breakfast before going to look for him.

Kathryn looked in the library first. She noticed that he used that room more than any other, or so it seemed. When she didn't find him there, she went to his office next. The door was closed so she knocked softly before opening it. He smiled but was on the phone. She shut the door again and went into the music room. On their tour she had noticed a piano. It had been too long since she practiced and she didn't really feel like writing at that moment.

LaCroix had sensed the need to check on the club, and he had been right to call. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly a simple situation could become a crisis if not properly managed in the beginning. When he hung up the phone he thought he heard music. When he concentrated he realized that he did and that it wasn't a tune that he recognized. He continued to focus and realized someone was playing the piano. He was angry and he made only minimal attempts to hide it as he crossed the hall. He entered the room quickly, certain that he would find one of the new housemaids playing. He was completely shocked to find that it was Kathryn. She stopped when the door opened so quickly. Her eyes were widened with fear when she saw the remnants of his anger.

"I-I'm sorry." She got up and backed away from him a bit. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No. You didn't. You just surprised me, I had no idea that you played." He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. She was hesitant, but slowly she relaxed into him.

"You don't have a piano at the apartment so I guess I never had reason to mention it before." Her voice was small and even though she pressed close he could tell that he had scared her.

"I'm sorry if I startled you." He kissed her lightly. "What were you playing?"

"It's called Angel, by Sarah McLachlan." Her fear was dissipating now. "Did you like it?"

"I didn't hear enough of it to know." He kissed her softly. "Play for me?"

"I'm out of practice, but alright." She smiled shyly and he sat down. He had always insisted that those of his children who stayed with him learn an instrument or improve whatever skills they might already have. Meeting physical needs only took so long and the concentration music required aided in control. Besides, it had entertained him in times when entertainment was not available at the touch of a button.

He noticed immediately that Kathryn used no sheet music, but she played beautifully. He was surprised again to hear her sing softly. Her voice grew stronger as she continued and again there was a tug of familiarity. He was certain that he had never heard the song before, though the words resonated with him. There was something in the quality of the voice, but what that was escaped him as easily now as it had all the other times that he tried to pin it down. The one thing he was certain of what that Kathryn could do more than carry a tune, she seduced the listener with her voice. When the song came to an end she shifted into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. As she got further into the piece he could see her relaxing, enjoying the music herself. When the final notes of the piece died away, she looked over at him.

"Well?" She said quietly. "Should I stop trying?"

He could tell the second question was only half in jest.

"Certainly not, that was lovely. Though I would be curious to hear you after you've practiced regularly." He gestured for her to join him and she curled up close.

"Thank you." She kissed him softly and LaCroix realized how much the hours of separation that evening had affected him. They often spent a number of hours apart, but they always woke together. It was one of those little things that is taken for granted until it isn't there.

Kathryn relaxed with her back against his chest. After her impromptu concert he had brought her into the library and started reading her more of the Aeneid. She was surprised how right he had been that first night; she did understand a great deal of what he read without consciously trying to translate. Occasionally she had to stop him because she needed a moment to work something out, or it was completely unfamiliar to her. Those times he explained and made her repeat the words again. For the most part though, he read uninterrupted. She considered the fact that she liked his voice a bonus.

They were stretched out comfortably on the sofa and between turning pages, his right hand massaged her right breast possessively. In the beginning she had found his possessive touches unsettling. Not because of the touch itself, but because part of her found it so comfortable and familiar. Now she had grown used to tugs of familiarity that came with spending time in his presence. There were moments she could almost grasp why, but it always flitted away again. The one thing she could pin down was the fact that she was remembering more of the dream than she ever had before. She knew the two were connected somehow, even if that didn't seem logical. His fingers found her nipple and pinched softly focusing her attention again; Kathryn smiled and squirmed a little. Whatever this feeling was, it would work itself out.

He had been reading for about half an hour when Kathryn's cell phone started playing Beyond the Sea.

"Someone you know?" He had gotten used to her screening system, but still didn't know who everyone was.

"Yes, it's Grandmother." Kathryn trotted over to the table where she had set up her laptop. "I hope she's alright, she never calls this late."

"Hello." She answered, her voice sounding a bit more guarded than usual.

"Well, you haven't dropped off the face of the Earth." Minerva said without preamble.

"No. Did you think I had?" Kathryn sat down next to him and he cupped her breast again. She blushed deeply but didn't try to remove his hand. That would have been useless. She thanked goodness her grandmother couldn't see them.

"I've only been calling your house for three days now. I know you're not there much but you usually check your messages." She sounded a little miffed, but relieved to hear Kathryn's voice.

"I'm sorry Grandmother, didn't you get my e-mail?" Kathryn relaxed against him.

"I told you when you were here for Thanksgiving that my computer was acting badly and your Uncle Michael still hasn't gotten here to put it right." The computer was a gift from her Uncle Michael, in Kathryn's opinion he had gotten it for her so he didn't have to actually talk to her. He hadn't even bothered to teach her how to use it. What little she knew, Kathryn and her cousins had had taught her.

"I assumed that he had gotten there by now. I didn't mean to make you worry. The e-mail said that I would be at Lucien's retreat for awhile and probably wouldn't check messages until I got home."

"And I take it you're still there." Kathryn could hear the little smile in Minerva's voice.

"Yes." Kathryn was smiling a little too. "So everything is alright then? You usually don't call this late."

"Well it took me this long to find your cell number. I thought it was in my book but it wasn't and at my age I'm doing well to remember one number for each person. Anyway, I wanted to know when you were coming home for Christmas this year." Kathryn started to squirm a little. She hadn't really forgotten about Christmas, but she hadn't thought about what she was going to say when the question came up.

"Well, I was thinking about that," Kathryn started, hoping that she sounded convincing. "And I thought you might like to come here for the holiday this year."

"What about the rest of the family?" Minerva's tone was completely rathional. "You know they all come over for dinner on Christmas Day." Kathryn hadn't considered that. She was squirming, feeling his eyes on her.

"They can come if they want. I mean my house is big enough to hold them all for a gathering anyway-"

"Kathryn, stop being ridiculous and just ask the man to come with you." Kathryn could tell that Minerva was somewhere between laughter and exasperation.

"It's not that simple Grandmother, besides you said yourself the whole family comes over-" Kathryn felt her heart starting to race, this was exactly what she had been trying to avoid.

"So? He's never seen a family gathering before?"

"No, I mean yes, but you know how they are-" Kathryn was flustered and trying very hard to get hold of herself.

"Yes I do, but he's a grown man; I think he should be able to manage. This is silly, let me talk to him."

"What?" Kathryn cursed the sharp note of panic she heard in her own voice. She sat forward and hugged her knees, her mind racing to find a way out of this.

"You heard me. He's there with you, isn't he?" Kathryn could tell that Minerva was trying not to laugh.

"Well it's not as simple as that." Kathryn was being intentionally vague. She could feel him watching her, and even though she couldn't look at him she could imagine the look of amusement on his face.

"Will you stop saying that," Minerva laughed now. "It's perfectly simple. Just hand him the phone and pull yourself together while I introduce myself."

Before she could respond he tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to hand him the phone. She was about to protest, but the look on his face told her that it wouldn't do any good. Reluctantly, she handed it to him and wondered how he always knew.

"Good evening Mrs. Bettancourt." He smiled a bit and stroked Kathryn's blushing cheek. She found that she couldn't stay still, and listening to one side of the conversation suddenly seemed like some kind of torture. She got up and took her iPod into the drawing room.

Extended time with mortals what not LaCroix's idea of fun. The year before he wouldn't have even considered it, but Kathryn had changed his perspective on many things in the last few months. He still wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew Kathryn and Minerva were very close and if read the subtext of the conversation they had just had correctly, Minerva had a great deal of influence with Kathryn. Refusal of her invitation might cause her to use that influence and that was not something he cared to consider.

Truthfully though, there was something about Minerva that he liked. He had spent time with mortals before; he had become quite comfortable with Kathryn sharing his space. He decided that he could manage a visit, and do it flawlessly.

He found her in his least favorite room in the house. The drawing room had always struck him as claustrophobic, no matter how he rearranged it. He thought it might have something to do with the fact that nothing in it really seemed to fit together. She was curled up with her earbuds in her ears. He concentrated and heard something similar to what she had played earlier. Her eyes were closed, so he touched her cheek softly, hoping he wouldn't startle her. She turned off the music and sat up.

"Your grandmother asked me to tell you she loves you." He sat close to her and pulled her against him again. Had he been less able to express his feelings for her he would have simply announced the plans he had made. He knew that's how he would have handled the situation with any of his other children. In his quiet moments he realized that his most recent losses of those dearest to him had inspired a shift in his handling of those most intimate associates. He decided that the ability to learn from the past and to begin again was an advantage of immortality.

"So you had a nice conversation then?" She was nervous about that, though what she had expected to happen he wasn't certain.

"Of course. I had heard so much about her I was curious to speak to the woman herself." It was true, though listening to both sides of Kathryn's conversation had piqued his curiosity further.

"Was she what you expected?" He could tell that Kathryn was avoiding asking the question she really wanted to ask. She hadn't even looked into his eyes, nor had she relaxed against him.

"It's difficult to tell over the telephone. She invited the two of us for the holiday." Kathryn looked up at him; he could hear her heart beating faster.

"I can't go." She said firmly. He was shocked by the vehemence of her statement. She got up and started pacing. "I'm not as far as I should be on the book."

He rose and held her still. He was shocked at the change in her though. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction.

"You told me yesterday that you're ahead of schedule. Besides, I've already accepted, for both of us." She moved away from him.

"Well then un-accept!" He was shocked by her raised voice.

"I will not. You want to see Minerva as much as she wants to see you." He struggled to keep himself controlled. As much as she brought out the softer side of him he wouldn't accept disrespect.

"Then you can go by yourself." She turned quickly and started out of the room. He was stunned into inaction for a moment.

"Kathryn, come back here! You're behaving like a child!" She ignored him and quickened her pace to a brisk trot. He could have stopped her easily, but he was not about to chase after her. For all the warmth she inspired he realized she had the ability to inspire just as much anger and if he put his hands on her he was afraid that he would injure her. To injure her if she was already one of his was one thing, he would have only her bruised emotions to deal with later. To injure her now meant he would have to deal with his own feelings of guilt while watching her heal for days or weeks. He went to the small pantry off the kitchen and downed a large glass in a single, greedy gulp. Blood taken from a cool glass never affected him in quite the same way as blood taken from a warm body did. It eased his sharpest edge of his anger, but it did not sate him the way it should have. He cleaned the glass and then left the house.

He rarely hunted when he spent time at the house. People would notice a series of disappearances and at least one person might notice those disappearances only occurred when he was in residence. He couldn't take the chance that the one who noticed would be ignored. The area immediately around the estate was sparsely populated, but there was a medium-sized town not too far away. On the outskirts he found a boy who was somewhat the worse for whatever he had been drinking. By the time he realized what was happening it was nearly over. LaCroix left the mutilated body in a stand of deep woods. His anger dulled and his hunger quelled, he returned to the house more slowly, turning his mind once again to Kathryn.

His first instinct, from the moment it happened was to teach her her place. He had been raised with the belief that sometimes a woman, even a dearly loved woman, required a lesson in respect. The fact that times had changed didn't change that basic belief. He hesitated though, and hesitation was something he had always considered to be less of a flaw and more of a deadly weakness. This time though, it had probably preserved his relationship with her.

He entered the house again and sat in front of the fire in the library, half expecting that she would be in there. She had clearly acted like a child, and it occurred to him that a child was precisely what she was. For all of her wit, charm and intelligence, his Kathryn was still a very young woman who, in spite of Corrina's best efforts, had led a very sheltered life. That had been one of the things that appealed to him about her, but with that came the fact that she simply didn't have the experience to draw on in certain situations. He resolved to find out more before deciding on a course of action. If it was only a tantrum he had enough control now to correct her in a restrained way, if it was something deeper he would make a decision about what to do. He picked up a newspaper and decided to let her have her time alone.


	29. Necessary Lessons

29

Author's Note: Handel's Messiah was first performed in Dublin in 1742.

psyche b

29 Necessary Lessons

LaCroix was surprised that she didn't find him at some point, but he had spent the rest of the night alone. He went up to bed just before sunrise, deciding she would either come to bed with him or she wouldn't. The thought that she wouldn't didn't seem realistic to him, though it was entirely possible he just didn't WANT to think of it as being realistic. As soon as he approached the bedroom he could tell that she was in there, and from the sound of her heart she was asleep.

He entered silently and found her curled up tightly on the small loveseat. She was sleeping but it was obvious to him that she had been crying. He moved over to her side and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"Kathryn." Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up quickly.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice trembled as she said it and her tears started again. He sat down but held her at arms' length. He lifted her chin, requiring her to look into his eyes.

"Tell me why you behaved that way." His voice was soft but he knew she would hear the slight edge of threat it held. He wanted her to hear it.

"Grandmother is the only person in the family whose opinions matter to me. She's never liked anyone Daddy picked for me and I've never really cared because I didn't like any of them either. If the rest of them hate you I can live with that, but I don't know if I can face her disapproval. I know I shouldn't have said those things or run away like that though." He pulled her close and she pressed close against him, still sobbing softly. He held her there, his arms tight around her, relieved in a way to find her so upset.

"Your father didn't pick me Kathryn." He reminded her gently. "Minerva and I had a very nice conversation earlier. I doubt this will turn out to be as dire as you're afraid it will." He kissed the side of her head softly. Actually, Minerva had seemed a bit nervous when they were speaking. It was possible he was imagining it; the telephone was such an impersonal medium. She hadn't said anything to give him the idea that he was unwelcome in Kathryn's life though.

"Maybe not." She agreed reluctantly. His lips brushed her forehead and then lingered on her lips.

"It's late." He said simply. She nodded and went into the bathroom.

Kathryn undressed and washed her face. She wished that she could forget most of the evening had ever happened. She knew as soon as she ran away from him that he was angry, and she knew that he had the right to be. She had behaved badly, but at the moment she was so upset her raw nerves had taken over. Maybe he was right, maybe it would all be pleasant, or cordial at least. Minerva seemed to like the IDEA of him an awful lot, Kathryn could hope that she would like the man as much. Looking in the mirror she realized that she had spent as much emotion on worrying about his reaction to her outburst as she had worried about her grandmother's reaction to him. She could hear him in his dressing room and she left to get into bed.

He pulled her close when he joined her and Kathryn settled comfortably against him.

"What is Charlotte Worthington's party? Minerva said you go every year and to ask you about it." He said after a few moments. Kathryn groaned softly.

"She isn't going to drag you to that awful thing, is she?" She said.

"Funny, she didn't make it sound like a trip to the gallows." He chuckled softly.

"Well, I guess it isn't horrible to everyone, those who like snobby society parties actually look forward to it. It's this big New Year's Eve party, very formal, VERY stuffy. Grandmother usually drags me because she says if I avoid society too much they'll say I've run off to join the circus. There was a time when I would have if it would have gotten me out of another one of those parties."

"I said we would be happy to attend." Kathryn knew from the tone of his voice that he was testing her. She looked into his eyes.

"Then when we get back to the city I'll have to go shopping for a dress." She said softly, feeling herself tremble a bit. He kissed her softly, his tongue twining with hers. Kathryn wasn't certain where this anxiety was coming from all of a sudden, but she knew that his anger frightened her. He broke the kiss first and turned her so that her back was against his chest, she tensed when she felt his growing hardness pressing against her.

"You would refuse me?" His voice was soft, so were his hands as they stroked her body.

"No." She heard a small tremor in her own voice. Kathryn felt her muscles relaxing under his touch, but heart still registered her anxiety.

"You're afraid I'll hurt you." It was not a question. His hand wandered over her legs, positioning her so that she was exposed. Kathryn moaned softly but didn't respond, his fingers teased her lower lips softly. "Aren't you?"

She could tell from the tone that he expected an answer.

"Yes." The soft whisper was all she could manage, she hoped it would be enough. "I know I have no reason to think-"

"Of course you do. You were disrespectful to me in my own house." One finger slid inside her, Kathryn moaned against the pillow. "Do you know how angry I was? How angry I had every right to be?" A second finger entered her and she felt herself tense around them.

"Please-" She whimpered softly, caught between the excitement his fingers were slowly building and the fear his words were creating.

"Please what?" His voice was still soft, his touch was as gentle as always.

"Please, just forgive me. I know I shouldn't have acted that way." She was near tears now, her fingers wrapped around the pillow in a death grip as his fingers opened her gently, spreading her slowly growing wetness.

"But I have forgiven you, my Kathryn. If I wished to punish you, do you think I would have waited this long?" His lips moved over the back of her neck softly, one finger searched for and found the nub of her pleasure in her moist folds. Kathryn raised her hips in spite of her fear.

"I don't know." Kathryn's confusion was complete. Her body was responding. His fingers pressed inside her again and she pressed back against them. His words stirred fear and familiarity.

"I have no intention of hurting you Kathryn, but I do want you." His whispered close to her ear. Kathryn shivered, her hips arching against his hand. As afraid as she had been a few moments before, she believed him completely. He brought her close and then moved off of her, Kathryn trembled and moved onto her knees. She moaned softly as he moved behind her, one hand resting lightly on her neck.

Kathryn expected him to be as forceful and insistent as he had been the first night after they arrived, but he entered her as carefully as he had the very first night they had spent together and her release was as sweet and complete as it had been that first time. Even the sharp sensation of his mouth on her shoulder seemed softer, though she still whimpered softly. She didn't realize she was crying until he gathered her into his arms and brushed her tears away.

Laying in his arms, with his lips lightly teasing hers Kathryn realized that remnants of her fear still clung to her. Whatever menacing undertone had been present just a few moments before was gone now and she hid against him. It was illogical and she knew it, but most of the day had seemed wrong somehow. He sheltered her silently, one hand stroking her back.

"I've never been afraid of you before." She whispered. It was one of those things that she hadn't intended to say out loud, and one of those things that was impossible to take back or explain away. He lifted her chin and she met his eyes hesitantly.

"I care for you far too deeply to hurt you in the way you feared, but it's not in me to simply let such an outburst go answered." Kathryn trembled as he said it and she could feel some of the tension starting to drain out of her body. She knew that some would still call it rape, but she couldn't make herself think of it that way. He had excited her, and in the end she wanted to submit.

"I wish I could take it back. I was sorry as soon as I did it." His arms tightened around her.

"I know. But we will sleep, and tomorrow evening we will continue as we have been." She relaxed against him completely now. "There's a special performance of Handel's Messiah on Saturday evening, I thought we might return to the city the evening after tomorrow and attend."

Kathryn knew the decision had already been made. She would miss the house and the relaxed hours she had spent with him there, but she found that even the mildest protests refused to be voiced. She simply nodded and he kissed her temple softly.


	30. Surprises

30

30. Surprises

"So what are you going to buy today?" His voice was still a bit gravely from sleep. They had been back at the apartment for several days and Kathryn had risen early, painfully early, to shop for something to wear for New Year's Eve.

"I have NO idea." She laughed softly and curled up next to him. It was always strange to be dressed and stretched out in bed next to him, but she wouldn't have given up those few moments for anything. "I never know until I see it. Whatever it is will undoubtedly give my Uncle David heart failure though."

"Oh? Why is that?" His hand slid under her sweater and Kathryn arched a bit.

"Because he handles my investments and trust fund and he's convinced that I spend too much money. He doesn't seem to grasp that I only spend a portion of what I've earned." She laughed softly and snuggled against him. "He'll lecture me, I'll ignore him and he'll get over it."

They never discussed money; it always seemed slightly vulgar and unnecessary. Kathryn was fairly certain that this was the first time she had mentioned her trust fund. He ignored the comment, as she expected that he would. She didn't expect the hungry way he kissed her though. The thought of protesting occurred to her, but the urgent way he pressed her back into the mattress made her forget her objections.

"You're late." Corey said, a little pout blooming around her lips. "I was starting to think that you turned into a little puff of smoke as soon as the sunlight hit you."

"I haven't gotten quite that immersed in my books yet. I just got a little...um...distracted as I was leaving." She couldn't help but smile a bit. They walked into Formal Expressions, Kathryn's favorite shop for anything very formal.

"You mean you got fu-"

"I mean, DISTRACTED." Kathryn hissed, blushing deeply. Corey smirked a little.

"Uh huh, so that's why your skirt is all twisted around?" She said. Kathryn checked the mirror quickly and Corey laughed. "I knew it."

"Guess I've been corrupted." Kathryn laughed and started browsing.

"So he really wants to go the old bag's party huh?" Corey wandered around a bit. Few people would have guessed that Corey grew up in the same social circles that Kathryn had. Corey managed to reject the manners and standards completely. It was Kathryn's opinion that all of the wild and shocking behavior was to get her father's attention. It was the only time he had paid attention to her when she was a child, now it was the only way she knew to get noticed. Corey's mother was what Kathryn called a vestigial woman. She was there, but seemed to serve no discernible purpose in anyone's life.

"I don't know about that exactly, I know that he said we would be going but not really how he feels about it." Kathryn stopped in front of a mannequin wearing a cobalt blue gown. She circled it slowly and then walked away.

"Oh well, as long as he TOLD you that you were going." Corey rolled her eyes. Kathryn had noticed that she was remarkably reticent about making comments, and she couldn't quite convince herself that was entirely natural. Sometimes she slipped back into her old self though.

"Is there something I can help you with?" A saleswoman asked.

"Not just now, I need to browse a bit first." Kathryn replied.

"It's not like that. Grandmother told him about it when she invited us. I'm sure that he didn't think it was polite to say 'thanks, but I'd rather stick a red hot poker in my eye.'." Kathryn hadn't told Corey or anyone else about the incident that followed the invitation. She was still embarrassed about it herself. "Are you going?"

"After Waiter-gate?" She snorted, referring to being caught with one of the wait staff in a very compromising position at the last ball she attended. Kathryn was shocked too, but seeing Charlotte hyperventilating at the very idea had made the evening worth it. Corey hadn't been to another New Year's Eve snorefest since. "What about this one?"

Kathryn looked over at the cacophony of lavender organza ruffles Corey was standing next to, a little grin tugging at her lips.

"Oh sure, I would love to look like a mad confectioner dressed me. You are going home, though." She found a black gown that had possibilities, she like the look of the corset laced back, but the way the back of the skirt was gathered in places didn't appeal to her.

"Yeah, I guess. I tried to tell Andy I didn't want to, but he insisted." Even though Corey had called her parents by their first names since she left home, it always took Kathryn a minute to remember who she was talking about.

"Well that proves that he wants to see you." She said, still circling the black gown slowly. It did have its good points.

"It proves that he thinks he HAS to see me." Corey stopped in front of a simple red dress that actually appealed to Kathryn. "Probably not formal enough for C.W."

"Unfortunately no. It's beautiful though, and I bet it would look great on you."

"Eh, where would I wear something like that?" She walked away from the dress.

"To your father's Christmas party." Kathryn stood in front of a simple deep gold gown with a beaded bodice. It was close and she might try it on if she couldn't find anything else.

"I was planning on hiding upstairs, wouldn't want him to be embarrassed or something." Kathryn knew by the dark tone she had just had a fight with him about something or other. Her father had never been good at expressing his feelings, and Corey seemed to have a hard time accepting that his clumsy gestures were the best that he could do.

"He loves you, Corey. He doesn't know how to say it, and he doesn't know how to tell you that he's sorry for not being there for you."

"I tell myself that Kat. Then he 'reminds' me that I could get arrested if I bring drugs on the plane. Do you know how long it's been since I've had anything besides alcohol?" She wandered over a two piece jacket dress that looked like it would suit an octogenarian. "What about this?"

"As you're so fond of saying, I'm not a hundred yet." Kathryn laughed softly. "Did you ever think that's his ham-handed way of saying that he's concerned about you? I mean, there were a few months there when you were pretty much oblivious most of the time. I don't know how many times he called me and wanted to know if you were alright."

"Why didn't he call ME?" She stood in front of a black velvet strapless gown that hugged every curve and ended in a dramatic fishtail. "You would look so good in this."

Kathryn walked over to her and circled the dress slowly.

"Maybe, but I think it's a little too Morticia Addams for me. And he tried to call you, but you kept hanging up on him."

"He only preached." Corey walked away again and Kathryn lost her amid a loud bridal party for a few minutes. Kathryn had to suppress a laugh when the bride pointed to the lavender nightmare and told her bridesmaids that THAT was the dress they would be wearing. They took the news better than she would have, meaning no one resorted to violence.

"He doesn't know how to do anything else Corey. Didn't you say his dad was really overbearing?" Kathryn's eye was caught by a royal blue gown that had crystals clustered around the high neckline and cuffs. It was very close, but still, not quite what she was looking for.

"I don't see what that has to do with it." Kathryn could hear the little pout in her voice.

"When you were growing up he did what he knew, and what he knew was wrong. He knows that now, but doesn't know how to change it so he fumbles around and you get mad at him and he pulls away from you because he thinks that's what you want."

"It IS what I want."

"Really? Then why do you expend so much energy telling him how much you hate him? If you really wanted him out of your life you could just cut off contact. Since you don't, it seems to me that you still want him and need him in your life, it's just neither one of you knows what that relationship is supposed to look like so you argue and fight and hurt each other." Kathryn could hear the bridesmaids talking about other dresses and trying to change the bride's mind about her choice. Corey was silent.

"You make it sound like we need therapy." She smiled a little.

"You do." Kathryn smiled a little. "Just go home and try to hear what he means, not what he says. And buy the dress, it'll look great on you and I know it'll fit in at his party."

"Did they put you on the payroll here?" She laughed softly.

"No, but Grandmother always says, change your outfit, change your outlook. What could it hurt? You can still go hide in your room if the evening is too awful and he will see you making an effort."

"Alright, alright. I'll try it on. But I'm promising nothing more than that." She said, smiling a little.

"Good. I can tell Uncle David you were buying something too and I felt left out when he yells at me." Kathryn laughed softly.

"Sure, make me the bad influence." Corey laughed a little. She wandered over to something burgundy, but Kathryn wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were fixed on a dress on the other side of the store. Corey trotted after her.

"That's it." She said firmly, motioning for the saleswoman.

"Are you sure Kat? It looks kind of, well, old fashioned." Corey said.

"It's perfect." She turned to the saleswoman. "I want to try this on and it'll probably need some alterations."

After finding Kathryn's size she led her into the dressing room.

Kathryn spent the next hour standing on a little pedestal in the fitting room while the dress was tucked and pinned in just about every conceivable place so that it would fit her properly. The process always annoyed her and she always ended up feeling like a pincushion, but she could tell already that the dress was going to be perfect. When she emerged again, Corey was sitting down, flipping through a copy of Modern Bride and rolling her eyes. There was a bag by her feet and Kathryn smiled a little.

"It fit you perfectly, didn't it?" She said.

"Yeah. You were right, I mean it's kind of conservative, but it looked damn good on me."

"See? Conservative isn't automatically the kiss of death." Kathryn laughed softly and scheduled another fitting. She handed the saleswoman her credit card.

"Oh no Miss Paige." The saleswoman handed it back to her. "Everything is taken care of."

"Taken care of? Am I the millionth customer or something?" Kathryn laughed a little, but it was nervous laughter.

"No, a Mr. LaCroix requested your purchases be billed to him." The middle-aged woman's professional demeanor turned to motherly concern when she saw Kathryn's shocked expression. "You do know him, don't you? I mean, he isn't some kind of stalker? We can call the Police if-"

"No he's not a stalker or anything, I'm just a little surprised." She felt herself blushing.

"So it's alright then to-"

"It's what he wants, so, yes." Kathryn smiled and took the evening bag she had chosen.

"It's what he wants, so yes." Corey said when they got outside, her tone mocking.

"Stop it." Kathryn was still blushing. "I was just surprised."

"I can tell. I guess dinner's on you." She said.

Kathryn returned to the apartment at a little after eleven and she still wasn't certain how she felt about Lucien's gift. Part of her knew that he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't wanted to, but there was still that nibble of guilt that had persisted through the rest of her shopping and dinner with Corey. She decided that she shouldn't have mentioned Uncle David's holiday fit. If she hadn't he might not have felt compelled to protect her from it. Kathryn put away the few things she had bought for herself and wrapped the gifts she had bought for others while she turned the evening over in her mind. She knew she wasn't going to get anything done until she talked to him.

She smoothed her hair in the mirror and traded the sweater she was wearing for a burgundy blouse. Even with the heels she stepped into the outfit was a little conservative for the club, but she wasn't going to be in there long enough for it to matter.


	31. Tests of Faith

31: Tests of Faith

31. Tests of Faith

LaCroix had finished feeding and left one of the many who was trying to ingratiate himself to an ancient to deal with the mess. He could have done it himself, but why should he when there were so many others who were so willing? He sensed her as he was emerging from the shadows. At first, he dismissed the sense of her presence. Kathryn rarely came into the club to find him, but she did frequently reach across their link without realizing it. Tonight was a rare exception.

It struck him that she still looked as out of place as she had that first night. She was scanning the room, and he sensed her inner struggle to regain quiet inside her head. She hadn't seen him yet, but he began to make his way through the crowd to her. It shocked him to see one he wasn't familiar with approach her. The regulars at the club knew who Kathryn was, and more importantly WHOSE she was. This one had seen several centuries pass, but his exaggerated gestures made him seem like little more than a child. Still, the new one had a younger face than he did, and he was suddenly curious if her head would be turned. LaCroix stopped and settled into a deep shadow for a moment, curious how this would play out.

Whoever he was, he approached Kathryn confidently, but that was not surprising. His kind were not accustomed to being refused. Kathryn backed away from him, maintaining an arm's length between them. He felt her growing more panicked as her pursuer became more persistent. He followed her across their link until he found her conversation.

"No thank you." She said firmly, scanning the room, almost frantically now.

"It's only a drink my dear, until your woefully inattentive companion decides to appear." He advanced and she backed away.

"My answer still stands. Please excuse me." She tried to move past him, but he stepped in front of her again.

"Perhaps he has some visual impairment. Leaving a delicious morsel like yourself alone in here. I only want to protect you from the unscrupulous characters that frequent places like this." The pursuer was becoming frustrated even though his demeanor hadn't changed. Kathryn's anxiety was rising and LaCroix was becoming angry.

"Why would you want to spend time in a den of unscrupulous characters unless you're at home among them?" He smiled at her quick wit. The stranger might be an exaggerated fop in modern dress, but he wasn't a fool. The little dance he had been performing with her was carefully leading Kathryn away from the crowd. LaCroix had his answer, it was time to intervene.

"I'm wounded my dear. I made a perfectly innocent offer." LaCroix approached circuitously, moving through shadows as a shark moves through black water. Finally he emerged slightly behind and to the right of Kathryn.

"I don't believe we've met." He said to the stranger. He saw the man's eyes widen just a bit, and even though he startled Kathryn slightly he was certain that she saw it too. She moved a little closer to him. "I am Lucien LaCroix."

"William Russell." He said. The slight pause that accompanied the answer told LaCroix two things, the name was relatively new to him, and that his own entrance and name had the desired effect. "An honor to meet you, and your young lady. Since she now has your protection I will take my leave." LaCroix caught the look of frustrated longing he gave Kathryn as he backed away. It proved that this William Russell had not gained a great deal of wisdom in those centuries.

"Thank you." Kathryn said. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." He brought her out of the crowd and into his study. He pulled her close when the door was close and felt the tension draining out of her body. Seeing her fearful of him was difficult enough, even when it was necessary. Seeing her afraid of another angered him. He asked softly. "You're alright?"

"Yes. I guess that's why I don't go into the club much. I always feel like an antelope at the lion's banquet." She laughed softly. She made light of it, but that sharp intuition had picked up on the truth of the matter. The way she couldn't quite meet his eyes let him know that she was more unsettled by her experience than she wanted to let on. He kissed her softly and was surprised when she pulled away.

"Did you bite your tongue or something?" LaCroix looked at her curiously for a moment before realizing what she meant.

"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't think the flavor would linger so." He sat down on the sofa with her and she kissed him tentatively again. He let her choose to deepen the kiss if she felt comfortable. He was pleasantly surprised when she did.

"How was your shopping? Did you find something you like?" He spoke softly.

"That's why I came down. You didn't have to-I mean, I shouldn't have said anything about Uncle David today-" She wasn't quite meeting his eyes as she spoke. He touched her lips softly with his finger and she fell silent.

"Do you really think I would have waited until the moment after you left to make those arrangements?" He smiled slightly, a soft blush colored her cheeks and she looked away, a little smile tugging at her lips.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't have. How did you know where I like to shop though?" She was curious now, her eyes were back on his.

"I called your grandmother the evening we returned." He smiled slightly. "When I told her why I wanted the information she was most accommodating."

"She didn't tell me she had talked to you again." Kathryn blushed.

"Of course not. I told her I wanted to surprise you." Minerva had been more a bit surprised herself to hear from him again so soon. This time he could tell that he hadn't been imagining her nervousness, but she had relaxed when she realized his intentions.

"Thank you, really. I don't know the last time I was so surprised." She rested against him.

"You're welcome." LaCroix kissed her softly, his tongue invading her mouth with a gentleness that always made Kathryn tremble. Their brief encounter that afternoon had dulled the sharpest edge of his lust; usually that was enough for him. She was a most unusual woman though. He felt her kisses becoming as passionate and hungry as his own and was surprised when she backed away.

"Don't you have to get back? What if someone is looking for you?"

"They'll be quite disappointed." He said simply. His mouth coming down on hers, stopping anything else she might say. He moved both of her hands behind her back, holding both slim wrists in one hand while the other opened her blouse. She struggled against the restraint briefly, and then surrendered.

Kathryn sat in front of the laptop and scanned the last sentence she had written. She jabbed at the backspace key and erased it for the third time. She tried for the fourth time. She had thought that since sleep seemed like a useless exercise she might as well write a bit, she should have know that it would work out as poorly. In less than nine hours they would be on a plane, two hours after that they would be standing in her grandmother's living room. The thought alone was enough to make her hyperventilate. She read he sentence again, and deleted it. Then the short paragraph she had managed to force out.

"Kathryn? What are you doing?" He asked crossing the room slowly.

"I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?" She saved the document and turned off the computer.

"I always know when you're not there." He held out his hand and led her back into the bedroom. He undressed and she did the same, curling up against his chest. She trembled in spite of telling herself not to.

"It's a few days, my Kathryn. Nothing in the scope of your lifetime." He spoke softly.

"I know." She whispered, shifting against him again.

"Your head knows, your heart hasn't accepted the fact yet." He said softly.

"My heart is too afraid of losing what completes it." She said, without thinking. She turned away, the feeling of familiarity that had haunted her for months now washed over her like a wave.

"I'm a possessive man, Kathryn. You are mine, and I doubt the power exists on this Earth to make me give you up now." He said softly against her ear. Kathryn shivered and moved her hair aside, turning slightly so that her neck was stretched and exposed.

"Please." She said softly.

LaCroix was stunned. Kathryn exposed her neck to him during their lovemaking, she never resisted when he needed to taste her. He knew she found the sensation comforting, but she had never verbally asked.

"Kathryn-" He started. Needing a moment to bring the intense desire to sink his teeth in and drink deeply under control.

"Please." She said again. "I can't describe it, but the sensation of your mouth on my skin-" He could hear the uncertainty in her voice and he knew that she wasn't uncertain about what she wanted, just why.

"Hush." His voice held all of his desire and emotion. His lips teased her earlobe lightly and then moved down over the pulsing artery, his tongue tracing it for a moment, making her shiver against him. He felt her absolute trust in the way body molded to his and that gave him the strength to move away from the throbbing temptation. One hand moved into her hair, tugging softly and holding her more exposed. She tensed and then relaxed again. In the muscle where her neck joined her shoulder he used the tip of one fang to make a small, precise wound. She whimpered at the stinging pain and gripped him tightly. The flow of her blood started as a slow ooze and turned into a trickle, his lips and tongue moving over it softly. He felt her body relax again and she moaned against his shoulder.

That soft moan almost took the last of his control, but feeling her complete trust and deepening relaxation allowed him to maintain the soft movements of his lips and tongue. Her eyes closed and his hand relaxed in her hair. Even from those few drops, her flavor suffused him, warmed him, and after the tiny trickle had stopped he nuzzled the side of her neck. The scent of her was enriched by the scent of the fresh wound. He wondered how she managed to slice through his control as easily as he had just opened her flesh.

LaCroix knew now that when the time was right he wouldn't just take her. She would have to agree, and in order to agree she would have to know and accept the truth. None of that had ever given him the slightest hesitation. He no desire to be anything other than what he was, he felt no need to apologize for the things that he had done in the name of survival or pleasure. He also knew that the flavor of her absolute trust wasn't something he would be able get back if he lost it.

She squirmed slightly and he realized he had been holding her in an awkward position. He allowed her to make herself comfortable against him before wrapping himself around her again. She sighed deeply in her sleep and he found himself drifting closer to sleep as well. He wouldn't allow himself to think about the possibility that she wouldn't be able to accept what he offered. Besides, there was the trip to consider. If he allowed himself to become ensnared in dark musings he wouldn't be able to fully concentrate on maintaining a mortal facade.


	32. Coping

32

32. Coping

Kathryn still hated airports. The coffee was still tepid and overpriced and the holiday crowds were decidedly less than jolly, but at least she wasn't alone. She was also managing to hold her worry in check, and she was convinced it was because he was next to her.

Kathryn also had to admit that the effect he had on people could be very useful at times. She had never had such good service. She had never gotten through security without being searched. She had never traveled without meeting that one guy who was absolutely convinced that every woman desired his company. They were just getting settled at the gate when she heard Corey call her name.

"KAT!" She was weaving through the throng.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving tomorrow." Kathryn hugged her.

"I was, but Andy pissed me off and then I canceled my ticket and then we kinda made up and this was all they had." Corey looked past Kathryn for the first time when Lucien took Kathryn's cloak off of her shoulders. "Um, hi."

"Miss James. Are you on this flight as well?" Kathryn knew he still didn't like her, but at least he was being cordial.

"No, not even this airline, but I saw Kat so I thought I would say hi." Corey looked a little nervous, that wasn't like her but Kathryn put it down to travel anxiety. He nodded and sat down.

Kathryn was surprised. In the khaki pants and blue twin set she was wearing Corey looked less like the wild child she was reputed to be and more like a young soccer mom.

"You 'kinda made up'? What does that mean?" She sat down and offered Corey a seat, noting that Lucien was giving the appearance of being absorbed in a newspaper.

"All he does is tell me what's wrong with me and he was on the phone lecturing about something or other and I told him I wasn't coming, but later he e-mailed me and said the holiday wouldn't be the same without me. Bonnie probably told him to write it." She was looking away again.

"Be honest, has your mother ever picked her head up out of Vogue magazine to tell him ANYTHING?" Kathryn said.

"Well, no." She said, looking nervously at Lucien. He was completely impassive.

"Just go home and try to give him the benefit of the doubt. He says dumb things and he doesn't realize how much those dumb things hurt you but he's trying. When does your plane leave?"

Corey looked at the clock.

"SHIT! They start boarding in five minutes and I'm on another concourse!" She got up and hugged Kathryn quickly.

"Call me if you want to talk." Kathryn said and waved as Corey ran off into the crowd.

"She's got the mouth of a longshoreman." He said quietly.

"I know, but it's the only way she knows to get attention. Once she gets things settled with her father she won't need to get attention that way anymore." He handed her the Arts & Living section of the paper.

"And is this Andy her latest conquest?" His tone was neutral, but the disapproval was there.

"No, Andy is her father and Bonnie is her mother." He turned and looked at her curiously then.

"She uses their given names?" He sounded appalled by the idea.

"It certainly gets attention doesn't it?" Kathryn said with a little smile.

"Disrespect usually does." He said.

"Something else she won't need to resort to once things are settled." Kathryn said, ignoring the implications of his words. She had noticed that the perception of respect meant a great deal to him, as did his perception of control. She got a pen out of her bag and started the crossword puzzle.

When they boarded the plane Kathryn was convinced that everything was going to go smoothly. The weather had other ideas though. Twenty minutes into the flight the weather had roughened to the point that reading was impossible. Ten minutes after that she had one arm wrapped around his and her rosary in her other hand. She prayed silently with her cheek against his shoulder and wondered which was giving her more solace at that moment. After what seemed like forever, they landed in a raging storm.

She was grateful that he had already arranged transportation; her knees were shaking so badly and she certain they wouldn't support her for any great length of time. The weather made it slow going though, giving Kathryn plenty of time to start ruminating about every conceivable way the visit could go badly. She checked her watch for the third time in five minutes.

"Kathryn," He put his hand over her wrist and she could tell that he was annoyed. He was doing his best to hide it though. "We're going to be a bit late. Why don't you call her?"

"Sorry." She blushed a bit and he took his hand away so that she could find her phone. It amazed her that there was a signal.

"Bettancourt residence." Kathryn recognized the soft edges of an Irish brogue in the voice.

"Bridey, it's Kathryn."

"Kathryn! Mrs. B. was just wondering if the weather had turned you back."

"No. It was pretty rough and it looked like just about everything after us was delayed or canceled but we made it through. The weather is really slowing everything down on the highway too though. Is Grandmother around?" Kathryn leaned against his shoulder and he pulled her close.

"And where else is she likely to be on a night that's not fit for man nor beast?" Kathryn could picture her standing there, a trim woman with her graying hair pulled back in a tight, efficient bun. "Just hold on a minute." Kathryn could hear Bridey walk into another room and tell her grandmother who it was.

"Bridey says your running late." Minerva said in her usual, matter-of-fact way.

"Yes, I didn't want you to think we were still in the air or stuck at some midpoint somewhere."

"And you're worried." She said with a certainty that unsettled Kathryn.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" Lucien chuckled softly.

"I've known you since before you were born Kathryn. Take deep breaths and remind yourself that I don't usually turn people to stone at a first meeting." Kathryn laughed softly and shook her head a little.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" She said.

"Quite probably." She could almost hear the little smile in Minerva's voice. "Relax, Kathryn. I promise to be on my best behavior."

"I'll try. See you soon Grandmother."

"I look forward to it." Minerva hung up and Kathryn ended the call on her end.

"Feel better?" He asked, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I would feel better if I had started drinking on the plane." She laughed softly.

"I've never seen you take more than a glass of wine." He stroked her cheek softly.

"Then it wouldn't have taken long to become pleasantly oblivious." He laughed and kissed her softly. Kathryn tried to sit still for the rest of the ride. She didn't quite succeed, but she was reasonably certain that she didn't annoy him too badly.

The irony of Kathryn's way of coping with her fear on the plane was not lost on LaCroix. The arm of a vampire and the rosary would seem to most to be an odd combination, but the more he thought about the more it seemed to suit her. Through her books and their conversations on the subject he learned that she believed vampires to be natural creatures, no less acceptable to whatever concept of god she held than mortals. He wondered who she would seek comfort from when she was immortal herself.

Minerva Bettancourt was going to be interesting. She read Kathryn as well as he did and he was curious what else she would be able to read. If that vision was too extensive he would have to decide how to deal with it. The few conversations he had heard also told him where Kathryn's quick tongue came from. He kissed the top of her head softly, certain that this would be an interesting visit.


	33. First Impressions

33. First Impressions

Kathryn had spent all evening wanting to get there, and now that they were in the driveway she just wanted to leave again. The driver had taken their bags to the door already and Bridey was motioning them inside. Kathryn's heart was pounding and she gripped his proffered hand a little tighter than usual as she stepped out of the car.

Technically the red brick house was too big for one person. Even with Bridey living in one could almost hear the rattle as they moved around. Still it was much smaller than Lucien's 'retreat' and her grandmother was not inclined to move. He stroked her back softly as they climbed the steps.

"Well it's about time, get yourselves in here before you catch your death." Bridey smiled and hugged Kathryn quickly as she ushered them inside. She shut out the wind and snow before taking their coats, and Kathryn noticed the odd look she gave Lucien. She brushed it aside as nerves. Minerva appeared from out of the sitting room and embraced Kathryn without a word. The older woman was only slightly shorter than her granddaughter.

"I'm so glad to see you." Kathryn said softly as she held the older woman tightly.

"I'm glad you made it. I heard on the news that they closed the airport. I don't think I could stand the anticipation another day." Kathryn could feel his eyes on her, and she could tell that a little smile was in them. She stepped back from the hug after a moment.

"Grandmother, Bridey, this is Lucien LaCroix." He stepped forward and Minerva took both his hands in hers. "Lucien, Minerva Bettancourt and Bridey Kirk." He nodded at Bridey, but barely looked at her.

"A pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Bettancourt." He said. Kathryn could tell that they were studying each other. Both were silent for a moment and Kathryn was certain that the world itself stopped for that time.

"Please, call me Minerva. Not Minnie, I hate that." Minerva smiled and the world began to turn again.

"If you will call me Lucien." Minerva nodded and dropped his hands before turning to Kathryn, her eyes appraising.

"You look as though you need to freshen up a bit. Why don't you go up with Bridey, she'll show you your room."

Kathryn could see that she was being gotten out of the way for a few minutes and she knew that there was nothing she could do about it. She resorted to stalling.

"It's not the same room I always sleep in?" She moved slowly toward the stairs.

"No. You told me about your unusual schedule and since I want you to be comfortable while you're here the room I put you in has no windows. That way you won't be disturbed by the daylight." Minerva shooed Kathryn up the stairs. "Now go settle in."

Kathryn couldn't think of anything else to say to keep her downstairs so she took one of the bags from Bridey. She knew the room her grandmother was talking about, she had never known anyone to actually sleep in it though. When she younger she thought it was haunted, as she got older she realized most people liked to at least have a window in their room. That was until she met Lucien. Even at his retreat the windows in the bedroom were closed off by solid shutters and heavy drapes. There simply weren't any in the apartment. It was one of those odd things about him, and one of those things that seemed to matter less and less as time went on.

"I was railroaded, wasn't I?" She said as she watched her grandmother lead Lucien into the sitting room.

"You were, but did you expect anything else?" Bridey said. She set the bags inside the guest room, and started to unpack for Kathryn. This room was larger than the usual room she slept in, and decidedly less pink.

"No, I guess not. Did she tell you how long you were supposed to keep me occupied?" Kathryn opened Lucien's bag and started hanging his things in the closet. She had noticed how meticulous he could be and she had a better chance of getting it right than Bridey did. She was also fairly certain that he would be more forgiving if she got it wrong.

"Half and hour at least. I figured that would be about how long it took to get you two settled in." Bridey said with a small smile.

"So when did she redecorate?" She asked. The sickly sweet floral bedspread and contrasting modern lacquer bedroom furniture had been replaced by a sleigh bed and matching dresser, end tables and blanket chest. The bedspread was jewel toned stripes, which were repeated on the throw pillows on the loveseat.

"Soon as she talked to him that night after Thanksgiving. I think she was just looking for an excuse." Bridey clucked her tongue and refolded Kathryn's underwear before putting it away.

"Well you have to admit, the stuff that was in here was pretty ugly." Kathryn closed her eyes and tried to picture his closet. She had only been in it twice so that was easier said than done, but she wanted it to be at least close to how he had it.

"There was nothing wrong with any of it, just because you don't like the look of something doesn't mean it's useless." Bridey said, Kathryn felt as if she was being lectured.

"I'm sure she didn't just throw it away." She replied.

"No." Bridey had to admit.

"Then someone is using it, just not us." Kathryn smiled.

"I still think she was trying to impress him." Bridey nodded in the general direction of downstairs. "And that's vanity no matter how you look at it."

"I haven't known her to try and impress anyone by redecorating." Kathryn laughed a little at the idea. The way Bridey was talking though, there was more to it than what she thought of as the sins of wastefulness and vanity. "So what do you think of him Bridey?" She asked casually, struggling a little to get one of his jackets to hang right on the hanger.

"Ain't my place to throw my two cents in." She responded. The answer surprised Kathryn. Bridey knew she was like family.

"You only say that when you don't want to answer." She said.

"Well, I suppose there's something you like about him. Personally though, he gives me the willies." Kathryn was shocked.

"You only met him a few minutes ago, don't you think that's a little harsh?" Kathryn took several things into the bathroom. The utilitarian tub and shower was nothing like his luxurious tub, but that just meant she would be that much more anxious to have a bath with him when they got home. It struck her that she had never thought of his apartment as 'home' before.

"You asked what I thought. He's sorta like one of them guys who everybody says is a good neighbor and then he turns out to have pieces of three wives in the freezer." Bridey finished at the bureau and she moved over to the closet.

"I'm pretty sure you're wrong about the last part Bridey." Kathryn laughed softly. "He does have a weird affect on some people though, just get to know him."

"Like I said, there must be something about him that you like. And I know Mrs. B. has been looking forward to meeting him ever since you first mentioned him. He's been all she could talk about the last few weeks."

"Really?" Kathryn was a little surprised to hear that her grandmother had been that excited.

"Yes really. Now that I see him I don't know why she's all fired up about having you with him, but I suppose that ain't any of my business either." She hung the last of Kathryn's things. "Your dress came the day before yesterday; it's in your grandmother's room."

"Thanks Bridey." Kathryn looked around and found there wasn't anything else to do.

"I need to see to the tea. Give her a few more minutes if you can." Bridey said.

"If you want to just get it ready, I'll take it in." Kathryn said.

"Mrs. B. would have a blue fit-"

"Nonsense." Kathryn brushed aside Bridey's protests. "I don't think the world will come to an end if I serve the tea instead of you. Besides, you've probably been up since before six. Go and get some sleep."

"It'll be in the kitchen, and thank you." Bridey smiled a little.

LaCroix supposed he shouldn't have been so surprised with the way Minerva greeted him, or with the sharp appraisal in her eyes as she studied him. He also wasn't entirely surprised that her heart was pounding, even though on the surface she appeared to be perfectly calm. Perhaps it was Minerva who had taught Kathryn her secrets to exterior serenity.

The sitting room she led him into was large, comfortable, and stereotypically what one would picture when thinking of an old woman's parlor. It was the portraits on the walls that drew his attention. He could tell that that they had been rendered by different hands in different eras, but the same woman could have posed for all of them.

"My daughter, Octavia, isn't here." Minerva said. She had been silent, allowing him to study the portraits. "Thomas, Kathryn's father, keeps her portrait. It infuriates his new wife; I suppose that's why I haven't asked for it back."

"You dislike Mira?" He met her direct brown eyes and she smiled a bit. He could sense her calming down a bit.

"No, Mira is too stupid to actively dislike. Thomas is a different matter though. You will excuse my frankness, but he was beneath my daughter and he is beneath my granddaughter."

"Is he?" His tone was impassive, hiding any indication of agreement. He let his eyes settle on a draped painting.

"I'm sure that Kathryn has shown you his photo, certainly you can tell by his look." He reached out and found Minerva's mind as closed as Kathryn's had been. He smiled slightly and she turned back to the paintings. "Allow me to introduce you, so to speak. My mother, Claudia. My grandmother, Livilla, great-grandmother Drusilla and my great-great-grandmother Augusta Julia." She paused, giving him a moment to study the paintings. "This one is new." She moved over to the draped painting and removed the cloth.

LaCroix's eyes widened slightly. The other portraits were just that, simple portraits of sitting subjects. All were done by skilled artists, but they weren't unique in any way. The new one showed a dark night lit by a full moon. Kathryn stood amid the tumbled stones and broken columns of an ancient ruin dressed like a visiting goddess. There was a hint of sadness around her challenging eyes, tendrils of her auburn hair caressed her pale shoulders and framed her face. The skin tone was precisely the shade of fine alabaster he hoped she would acquire after her conversion. He could sense Minerva was waiting for his reaction.

"It's an incredible likeness." He found that he had to force himself to look away from the painting. "When did she pose for it?"

"She didn't. She doesn't even know it exists yet. The artist is a good friend of mine and I was able to convince him to work from photos and a few personal meetings. She's told you about her mother?"

"Yes, the pain is still very fresh for her." Minerva nodded and draped the painting again.

"For all of us who loved her. Anyway, Octavia was diagnosed three weeks after her portrait was finished. Kathryn became superstitious about it and I wasn't able to convince her to sit." She fussed with the fabric for a few minutes and it seemed to LaCroix she was gathering her thoughts or possibly her courage. Finally she turned to face him again. "It terrifies her you know, the thought of wasting away like that, or seeing it happen to someone else she loves. To be perfectly honest though, the prospect of seeing her ravaged by age or illness breaks my heart as well. At least this way I have her captured at her most perfect." Her eyes were direct and focused on his and for a moment LaCroix almost believed that she knew exactly what she was saying and who she was saying it to. It was impossible of course.

"Please, sit." She said finally, breaking the moment.

"Her name seems like a break with tradition somehow." He sat on a sofa opposite of the one she chose. Minerva was still appraising, and so was he.

"It is and it isn't. Not everyone in the family is named that way, just very specific women. I won't bore you with the details. You do realize that Kathryn is rather willful?" He laughed softly and so did she. Her heart registered her fading anxiety. "Silly question. My daughter was just as headstrong. My mother and I were able to convince her to choose a proper middle name for Kathryn, but that was the best we could do. Hasn't she told you?"

"No, but I haven't made a point of asking either." With each passing moment he sensed her inner calm moving into accord with her exterior calm.

"She hates it, so I'll let her tell you herself. Kathryn tells me that the two of you met at some sort of club you own." She sat back now.

"Yes. She came in with her friend Corrina." He saw Minerva shudder a bit and realized his feelings about Corrina were mutual.

"Well, I suppose the girl should be credited for doing something right. You don't seem like you would fit in to one of Corrina's haunts though."

"The club is a business interest that tends to require more oversight than my other investments. I rarely spend much time circulating with the patrons, but something about Kathryn caught my attention." He smiled slightly and Minerva returned the small smile.

"Probably the fact that she wanted to hide under the table." Minerva laughed softly. "Kathryn is quite comfortable at the symphony or the museum, but activities usually enjoyed by people her own age tend to be rather off-putting to her."

"Thank you Grandmother. It's always nice when your family portrays you as recluse." Kathryn came in carrying a white china tea service on a tray. LaCroix rose as she entered, noting that she had changed her blouse, brushed out her hair and caught it in a clip at the nape of her neck. She also seemed to look more relaxed.

"Kathryn, I didn't raise you to be a domestic. Where's Bridey?" LaCroix noticed frustration in Minerva's voice, as if Kathryn was doing something mildly embarrassing.

"In bed I hope." Kathryn responded, ignoring Minerva's tone all together. She prepared a cup with sugar and cream, pouring the hot liquid over it before handing it to Minerva. "You know how early she gets up, she was exhausted. I'm surprised you're still awake."

"I've been staying up later because I wanted to spend time with you on your schedule. I have several more hours left before I turn into a pumpkin." She sipped the tea.

"Cream and sugar?" Kathryn asked him, he shook his head. She filled the cup with plain tea and handed it to him.

"This would have only taken a few minutes." He said, his finger softly stroking hers as he accepted the saucer. Minerva's averted eyes and slight smile told him that she caught the gesture.

"Well, aren't we all very Patrician this evening." She filled a cup for herself and sat down next to him.

"Not just this evening dear." Minerva said, that small smile still playing on her lips.

"Well, I promise to leave all the dirty pots in the scullery for Bridey." Kathryn said, sipping the tea.


	34. Art and Literature

Author's Note: 'De vita Caesarum' or 'Lives of the Caesars' was completed in the year 119 during the reign of the emperor Hadrian by his personal secretary Suetonius. The work consists of biographies of Julius Caesar and the eleven emperors that followed, including the three Flavian emperors, Vespasian and his sons, Titus and Domitian.

Tacitus was a historian whose surviving works document a similar time period.

psyche b.

* * *

34. Art and Literature

Kathryn got the distinct impression that she was missing something, but she had become accustomed to that in the past few months. She sipped her tea and concentrated on the feeling of the room. Since she noticed that rooms took on distinctively different feelings when there was tension between their occupants Kathryn often paused before blundering in to a conversation. It made things considerably less awkward for her. She sensed nothing but a bit of nervousness coming from her grandmother. At least initially things were going well. Her eyes fell on the draped image.

"Did you get Mother's portrait back from Daddy?" She asked, filling the silence that had grown out of somewhere. Kathryn wouldn't allow herself to think about what was being said about her before she came in.

"No." Minerva set her cup aside and uncovered the image for the second time. She stood next to it, waiting for Kathryn's reaction.

"You had another one done." Kathryn said, getting up to have a closer look, her eyes narrowed a bit. "Mother wasn't that pale though, not while she was healthy anyway."

"That's because this isn't your mother, Kathryn." Minerva said softly. Kathryn realized what she was saying and she took her eyes off the painting to look at her grandmother.

"It's not me." She said firmly. "It can't be. I never posed, besides that woman is too beautiful." Kathryn shook her head and took a step back. Lucien's gripped her upper arms lightly and Kathryn realized she was trembling. She wondered when he got up.

"Perhaps the image is a bit paler than you are, but I think the artist was attempting to make you blend into the setting more. Other than that it's a very good likeness." His voice was soothing, and Kathryn felt some of the initial shock fading. She looked over at Minerva again.

"He might be right about the skin tone." She looked from Kathryn's face to the portrait. "I didn't mean to startle you so though." Her eyes were concerned.

"I'm sorry." Kathryn said finally. "I guess I'm a little overwrought." She let Lucien lead her back to the sofa, but her hands trembled a little as she sipped her tea.

"No, I should be apologizing to you. I should have warned you instead of surprising you like that." Minerva said, settling again. "I was just so anxious to see you standing in front of it."

"Who painted it?" She felt herself calming now. She couldn't get the thought of it being a bad omen out of her head, but his arm around her shoulder made her feel safe from bad omens as well as the rest of the world. She relaxed into him.

"You remember meeting Miles Barry several times when you visited last summer?" Minerva asked. Kathryn nodded. She had begun to think that her grandmother was dating the mousy little man he was around so much. "Well, he worked from those meetings and photographs."

"Did he choose the setting?" Her curiosity was taking over now, she pushed aside all other thoughts for the time being.

"Mostly. I told him it should give the impression of nighttime, the rest was his idea. He said it was the first image that came to mind the first time he met you." Minerva sipped her tea and relaxed a bit more.

"It's unusual, but I think I like it." She smiled a bit at the image and then turned to Minerva, her brow knitted slightly. "You didn't tell him about Anna, did you?"

"No, but I did tell him about your education. I presume you aren't embarrassed by that." Minerva smiled a little and relaxed visibly.

"I'm not embarrassed by Anna either, but I'm so close to being done with her, I would hate to lose my cloak of invisibility now." Kathryn smiled a little.

"I knew you were further along than you let on." Minerva leaned forward, her eyes filled with curiosity. "I want all the details."

--

LaCroix watched the two women discuss Kathryn's latest story. He was surprised by the similar mannerisms, the similar inflections of voice and the similarity of opinion about Paul's nature. Minerva was shocked and indignant when Kathryn related the fact that her editor wanted the series to end with Paul's death. The evening after that conversation was easily the most upset he had ever seen Kathryn, it was also the most frank she had ever been with him about her own beliefs.

"Well that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Minerva was flushed with anger as well. "You aren't going to do it are you?"

"Of course not!" Kathryn said. "I have a perfectly good ending in mind that keeps everyone just as they are. Besides, it's much more likely that Paul would simply decide he had nothing more to say for the moment than it is that he would suddenly become suicidal."

"Did she really suggest that?" Minerva was shocked, frankly so was he. Kathryn hadn't mentioned that particular point.

"Yes. She thinks that just because Paul is a-" The word caught in her throat again, he wondered if her conversion would change that. "Because Paul is revenant that his emotions somehow work differently. Human beings are not usually overwhelmed by the urge to kill themselves when they're happy in their lives, since he's happy in his life that urge wouldn't strike him either. Frankly to hear her talk about it made me sick." Kathryn sipped her tea.

"I'm sure it did. For an educated woman Margot can certainly act like a perfect fool sometimes." Minerva turned to him. "You have read her books, I presume."

"Of course. The history drew me into her stories, but I have to admit they are unlike anything else I've ever read." He noticed Kathryn blush softly.

"The history in the new one will be richer because of Lucien." She touched his leg softly and LaCroix had to fight to follow the thread of the conversation for a few minutes. It had been nearly a week since she had been so relaxed. She had often sought comfort from him in that time, but little else. His basic needs were met elsewhere, but he dearly missed the emotional connection that he found only with her. He watched her prepare another cup of tea for Minerva.

"Kathryn tells me that you're quite a collector. In fact, you books are one of the first details I managed to drag out of her." Minerva sipped the tea, smiling slightly.

"Funny, I don't recall being put on the rack." Kathryn's easy sarcasm had returned, he smiled slightly at her before answering Minerva's questions. He could see where Kathryn's deep appreciation of art and history came from. Or one of the places anyway. The longer he knew Kathryn the more convinced he became that there were aspects of her that were as old as he was.

At a little after two Minerva announced that she was tired. He saw very little change in her, but he wasn't sure that was a surprise anymore.

"Remember Kathryn, we have an appointment at the spa tomorrow at three in the afternoon." Minerva hugged Kathryn close and kissed her cheek She took his hands again "You will be able to occupy yourself for a few hours on your own, won't you?" He bent down and touched his cheek to hers. Minerva's heart registered her surprise, but nothing else did. He stepped back.

"Of course. Sleep well Minerva."

"You too." She smiled and walked out of the room. Kathryn began collecting the dishes as soon as she left.

"I thought you were going to leave those." He said, unable to keep a little smile off of his face.

"Bridey would have my head if I left dirty dishes in the sitting room." Kathryn smiled a little. "I'll clean these up and give you a tour." He followed her through to the kitchen.

--

"She really likes you." Kathryn washed the dishes quickly and set them in the strainer.

"You sound surprised by that." He chuckled softly. "It's rumored that I can be quite charming at times."

Kathryn laughed and felt a blush color her cheeks.

"Well I would call that more than a rumor." She smiled over her shoulder at him. "But I don't mean that she's charmed by you. I mean she actually likes you. That's more than I can say about her feelings for most people, my father especially."

"She mentioned that he wasn't a favorite of hers." Kathryn realized she was still nervous under his gaze and she wondered when that would go away. If he had been anyone else she would have just handed him a dish towel, the thought of assigning him a task, especially such a menial task, seemed almost comical and Kathryn had to work to keep from laughing out loud at the vision. She moved a little more quickly to finish.

"She told you he was beneath my mother, didn't she?" Kathryn turned to face him again and she saw surprise flicker across his face. "She tells everyone that. Come on, I'll give you the tour. It's not as big as your retreat I'm afraid." Kathryn led him through the house, and while she talked a little about each room she kept her voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping members of the household. She ended their tour in the sitting room and was drawn to the painting again. He stood behind her, his arms around her shoulders, Kathryn leaned back against his chest.

"I'll be out of place." She said softly.

"Why is that?" He spoke quietly.

"It's so different. The others don't have a background like this, and then there's the fact that she – I – look like a marble statue. Not to mention the whole 'Kathryn among the Claudias and Dusillas' thing." She sighed softly, relaxing against him.

"Perhaps she'll use your middle name." Kathryn stiffened and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Did she tell you my middle name?" She asked.

"No. She suggested I ask you."

Kathryn shook her head slightly.

"It doesn't suit me. I'm just glad Mother put her foot down when she did." She rested her head against his arm. He leaned close to her ear.

"Tell me." The soft note of command wasn't lost on Kathryn, but she was pretty sure he knew it wouldn't be.

"It's Vespasia." She said, trying not to grit her teeth.

"After the Emperor Vespasian." Kathryn thought she detected a note of surprise in his voice. "He was a soldier for most of his career." She heard the slight change in tone that made it sound more like he was talking about a memory than something he had read. She knew that wasn't possible but it always struck her. "Nero was deposed by the military in 68 AD, and after him there were three other emperors, four total in the space of a year. When Vespasian ascended the Empire was held together by threads after civil wars and teetered on the edge of bankruptcy because Nero had frittered away the wealth of the treasury for his own personal amusement. Under anyone else it might not have survived at all. Before he died he had restored order and discipline to the army, restored the finances Nero's avarice had drained away-" Kathryn laughed softly. "What?"

"It sounds like you had lunch with him a week ago." She thought she felt his arm tighten for a moment, but the soft rumble of his chuckle made her think she was imagining it.

"No, but I have been reading 'De vita Caesarum'."

"Tacitus?" Kathryn asked, trying to place the work.

"Suetonius." He replied, she nodded. "Why do you think the name doesn't suit you?"

Kathryn thought about how to best explain it.

"It's too grand for me. Grandmother's fits because she's so regal in her own way. Everyone who knew my mother just called her Avi, but she had that bearing too. I'm so ordinary. It's like calling the upstairs maid Molly the Great, it just doesn't sound right." He kissed her temple softly.

"You don't see yourself the way others see you." He said simply. "You're tired, why don't you go relax for a bit."

"What about you?" The last thing she wanted was to be alone at that moment.

"It sounds like the wind is quieter now, I want some air. I'll join you in a bit."

Kathryn knew his mind was made up by the tone in his voice. She turned, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly. "I'm sorry I've been so distant." His arms tightened around her.

"You've been on edge. Go relax." He kissed her lightly and walked into the hall. Kathryn trotted after him.

"Wait, if you're going out you'll need a key to get back in." Kathryn took a ring with two keys on it out of her bag. "It's the one with the red tape." He kissed her lightly, pulled his coat on and left quietly. She turned the lock and went up to bed.


	35. Fulfillment fo Need

35. The Fulfillment of Need

Part of LaCroix's errand was simple necessity, part of it was to fulfill an obligation. Even though the spread of his kind to the Americas had changed some of the most stringent protocols of territory, some did still exist. He disliked when they were violated in his little sector of the world, he wouldn't flout them in someone else's. He continued this litany of reasons to convince himself that the meeting he was heading to would be a simple exchange of courtesies. Deep down he knew that nothing was ever simple where Elsbeth was concerned.

Elsbeth was about a century older than Nicholas. He had known her for about six of those centuries, and while she dearly wanted to be one his closest allies LaCroix wouldn't go so far as to call her a peripheral associate. She was now what she had always been, a pretty whore who would attach herself to anyone who could benefit her in whatever way was important to her at the time. He freely admitted that she had turned his head for a few moments It was entirely possible that a pretty whore always would. His passion for her had cooled almost before the act was complete though.

Since she had never really given up her former profession he had allowed her to provide him with the use of a few select members of her stable in exchange for favors through the years. It had been a relatively satisfying arrangement at times, but with the small amount of physical gratification came levels of drama that surprised even him.

Judging by the historic brownstone he found himself in front of it seemed like one of world's oldest professions still paid well. Inside he was surprised to find it unusually tasteful, and he wondered if she had hired a decorator. Fundamental good taste could be refined, but he found that it was something that couldn't be taught. A very young vampire nervously led him to her private rooms and he found those as garish and obvious as he expected.

"Hello Elsbeth." He said simply, when she appeared wearing some sort of semi-transparent robe. She was maybe two inches taller than Kathryn and heavier around the hips and thighs. Her breasts were larger too, though they lacked the firm shape he had become so fond of. Her waist-length hair was a deep brown that looked black in the right light. It swayed as she walked, but just about every part of her did. He waved the young one away when she tried to take his coat.

"Is that the way you greet an old friend and lover?" She sauntered over to him and reached up to stroke his cheek. LaCroix caught her wrist before she could contact his skin.

"That's how I greet you." He replied simply.

"Always so tense." She smiled slightly before disappearing though a door. She returned pushing a boy and girl ahead of her. Both were mortal and he could tell that neither had seen their twentieth year. It wasn't unusual for Elsbeth to offer him mortals and since they tended to be her clients she usually employed a number of them at any given time. The girl was attractive enough, even though her looks were marred by her obvious terror. The boy was afraid too, but he had learned to cover it better. For some reason, that seemed to add to his exceptional beauty.

"I never know what kind of mood you're in." Elsbeth said, smiling her calculating little half-smile. "So you can choose, or you can have them both. A little holiday gift from me to you."

"Your gifts come with strings, Elsbeth." He walked closer to the trembling pair. They made an interesting package. The girl wore a short black dress that left very little to the imagination. She was a bit more voluptuous than he tended to choose, but her face made up for the shortcomings of her body, even if she did her best not to look at him as he circled. The boy was more to his taste. His wiry muscles were accentuated by the tight jeans and white t-shirt and when he lifted his hazel eyes there was a bit of challenge there. He stopped in front of them again, slightly surprised that he was feeling no particular stirring of need for either of them.

"What's wrong with that?" She said with a little shrug. "You get something you want, I get something I want. That's the way the world has worked since before even you walked in the sunlight."

"I'm not here to make deals." His voice was cold. Elsbeth walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm and he resisted pulling away.

"Both virgins." Elsbeth said in an exaggerated stage whisper as she looked at the pair. The girl trembled slightly, the boy lowered his face to hide his deep blush. "Do you know how difficult they are to find in this age?"

"Elsbeth-" His dark tone would have stopped most who had sense. Elsbeth just pushed further.

"Oh I forgot, perhaps you do. Maybe Katie the Cold Fish has locked your manhood away in a cupboard somewhere, since she obviously won't let you use it." Elsbeth smiled coldly and led her gift back out. When she returned the back of his closed fist caught her hard enough to send her sprawling. She touched the trickle of blood coming the corner of her mouth and looked at him with an anger that surprised him slightly. LaCroix would have thought she knew enough to cover her true feelings.

"I suggest you remember who you're talking to." He watched her struggle to her feet. Once she had righted herself she stayed out of easy reach. The question of how she knew Kathryn was on his lips, but he knew that asking would do little good. He wasn't about to let her think there was anything she had that he wanted. Not yet anyway. Knowing Elsbeth was not nearly as cunning as she thought she was, he knew that she would tell him in her own way without any prompting. All he had to do was be patient and listen carefully. "Who I bring into my life is none of your concern."

"As you like, but if you think I'm the only one who calls her that you're in for a rude surprise." The wound had healed and she swept away at the last of the blood with her tongue. He noted that she had regained some of her composure as well. "Her father is an occasional client of mine. That little fact would probably send her into heart palpitations, or hyperventilation or whatever it is mortals do when they're shocked. He's of the opinion that she doesn't like men, perhaps she would find me more to her liking."

"I will be hunting in your city until after the New Year." He said simply, needing every shred of his will to keep his voice even. "You will stay as far away from me and those who have my protection as geography will allow, or I will make you wish one of your clients had strangled you before you met the one who made you."

"Such threats, LaCroix." She was moving around him slowly in the overly-sensual way of a woman who is desperate to be noticed. "I'm making a very generous offer if you would just hear me out. I'll take your little innocent under my most motherly wing, and after a few months with me she will happily and skillfully fulfill even your most perverse desires, and we both know just how perverse your desires can be on occasion." She stopped, an exaggerated thoughtful look on her face. "Though I suppose to make sure she was truly useful to you I would have to bring her across."

LaCroix's resolve snapped. The thought of Elsbeth being anywhere near Kathryn was bad enough, but her 'offer' sickened him. The beating he delivered would have easily killed a mortal woman. He continued until the pretense of saving herself any more pain was out of her pleading cries and desperate apologies and he heard nothing but agony. He adjusted his coat and looked down at her struggling to get to her feet, he twined one hand in her hair and lifted her to his eye level.

"This is nothing compared to what I will do to you if I find you or anyone associated with you was so much in the same room with her." He dropped her again and exited the house quickly. It was entirely possible that he had made her angry, but he was was certain that she would think twice before acting on that anger. He also found that he thought even less of Kathryn's father. The fact that the man visited a prostitute from time to time meant nothing. Sexual release was simply a natural need that had to be accommodated. If a man's mate couldn't or wouldn't provide him with that release, seeking it elsewhere simply made practical sense. The fact that he discussed his daughter or anything else of importance with a whore he visited occasionally meant he was a fool. Though he supposed he had to leave the possibility open that Kathryn wasn't important to him.

The necessity of the evening was easy enough to fulfill. He found a half-frozen runaway who should have been grateful to him for putting her out of her misery. He returned to Minerva's quiet street with his hunger slaked and his desire as sharp as ever. The more he thought about it, the less surprised he was that Elsbeth's gifts hadn't excited him. He had the physical act whenever he wanted it with whomever he chose. The act alone wasn't all he wanted, it was the connection and he knew was only present with Kathryn.

LaCroix moved silently through the house, turning off the light Kathryn had left on for him. It was a sweet gesture that made him smile, but it was hardly necessary. One of the things he had been concerned about before their arrival was the thought that Minerva would give Kathryn separate quarters. He hadn't slept without her since her Thanksgiving trip, and he didn't want to start. On their tour he had been pleased to see that would not be an issue.

He listened at the door a moment and realized Kathryn was still awake. That surprised him a bit, but he was glad he wouldn't have to wake her. He opened the door quietly and found her sitting in bed with a white afghan covering her legs. She was listening to Tchaikovsky and reading a book. Her hair was down and the simple white cotton chemise she wore added to her air of perpetual innocence. As he looked at her he wondered if that would ever fade.

--

Kathryn gasped sharply when she looked up and realized she wasn't alone. One day she would have to ask him how he managed to be so silent. She tossed the book aside before moving onto her knees, relaxing against him and shivering a little as he pulled her close.

"You're cold." She felt goosebumps raise on her back when his hands touched her bare skin.

"That surprises you?" His eyebrow quivered a bit. His cool skin had become somewhat of a joke between them. Most of the time she felt it was just a part of him, but there were times when it still tugged at the edges of her consciousness. This was not one of those times though.

"I mean REALLY cold." She laughed softly and sat back between heels, her hands holding the front of the chemise down to maintain her modesty, even though the garment was easily long enough to make that unnecessary. He started to undress, draping his clothes casually over the high footboard of the bed. As many times as she had seen him naked she still couldn't bring herself to watch him undress and she turned away, letting her hair fall over her face.

"Then you'll have to warm me." He lifted her chin and kissed her firmly, moving onto the bed. He untied the ribbon at the neckline of the chemise. His fingers opened the buttons and then pushed the narrow straps off of her shoulders, leaving her naked in the middle of a pool of white cotton. One finger teased her nipple, making it harden. Kathryn moaned against his mouth. Her fingertips trailed down over his stomach to his already hard shaft.

"You're cold everywhere." She breathed against his mouth. One finger moved down between her legs and pressed inside her. Kathryn's muscles clenched around it and she moaned softly and shivered.

"You're deliciously warm." His mouth moved lightly over the side of her neck and Kathryn closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. She let him draw her down next to him.

"Am I?" She asked, her tongue trailing lightly down the middle of his chest. "Is this helping?" She found one nipple and sucked gently before moving to the other one and scraping it with her teeth. His hand tightened in her hair for a moment and he pushed her head lower.

Kathryn hesitated and looked up at him uncertainly. The pressure on her head was gentle but insistent and she let him guide her. Her tongue circled and teased his navel and then trailed downward, licking his thick length before taking the wide head in her mouth. She was tentative at first, sucking softly. His fingers tightened in her hair and her mouth moved more firmly. He arched and groaned and Kathryn took more of him into her mouth, stroking his shaft with one hand as her mouth moved over him. She let his reactions guide her movements, stroking the underside more firmly with her tongue when he groaned deeply, swallowing around the tip when it sent pleasure chills through him.

"Stop." He rasped finally, his fingers tightened in her hair and Kathryn moved slowly up his body again, surprised how ready for him she was. His mouth captured hers and he turned her onto her back, she whimpered sharply when he pushed his full length inside her with no warning. He held still for moment, letting her adjust before taking her roughly. One hand covered her mouth when she struggled to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. Her legs tightened around his waist and her back arched as her release took over. She knew that if it wasn't for his hand she would have wakened the whole house. His mouth found her shoulder and she held it there, trembling under him.

--

Kathryn let him move her limp body to rest against his chest. She sighed softly and her eyes closed for a few moments. She often wondered if he thought she fell asleep immediately after. Sometimes she did. Most of the time though she was simply so physically and emotionally content that speaking seemed like unnecessary noise. Eventually she reached out for the afghan she had been wrapped in, he put it around her shoulders and Kathryn pressed closer for a moment. Something was intruding on the serenity of the moment though. There were sounds tickling the edges of her consciousness, disturbing her relaxation. When she realized that it was Bridey moving around below them she sat up, blushing deeply and holding the afghan over her breasts.

"What's the matter?" He pulled her close again, but her muscles were still tense.

"I'm not used to this room." She started. "I didn't realize that Bridey's room is directly underneath it."

"What does that matter?" She looked up at him and saw that he was being serious. She hid her face against him again.

"She might have heard us." She whispered softly.

"Again, I don't see what that matters." He lifted her chin. "Minerva couldn't have thought that I would share the same bed with you and not touch you."

"No, I'm sure Grandmother didn't think that. I shouldn't have said anything, I need a shower." She moved to get up but he held her where she was. Kathryn struggled for a moment and then gave up. She had always known that she was no match for his physical strength. He was silent until she was still against him again.

"But you did." He held her chin and studied her face. "If you don't fear Minerva's reproach you certainly can't fear a servant's. Did you feel forced when-"

"No." Kathryn said firmly, and lowered her eyes for a moment. "I know I still don't know how to please you all the time. If you didn't tell me, or show me, some things I don't think I would be able to guess." She lifted her eyes again. "Bridey isn't just a servant though. She's more like another member of the family. Sort of like the very religious aunt who likes to tell everyone how sinful they are."

She settled against him again and he was silent for a moment.

"The coupling of lovers is one of the few completely natural acts left in this world, Kathryn. No matter what the church has tried to make out of it." She relaxed against him.

"I know that, intellectually anyway." His hand rubbed her lower back and she moaned softly, her body relaxing. "It's just that right now I can picture her telling me how she was saying her rosary or something and was interrupted and couldn't concentrate."

Kathryn felt the familiar rumble of his chuckle.

"It's not funny." She started to laugh a little herself. "She really says the rosary or novenas or something every morning. I'm sure the Virgin Mary or Saint Whoever would not be amused and she'll be only too willing to tell me how un-amused."

He guided her to straddle his lap and Kathryn relaxed against him.

"I think I will miss your shyness if it ever disappears entirely." He kissed her and Kathryn sighed against his mouth.

--

LaCroix watched Kathryn sleeping and realized that he looked forward to drifting off that way each day. Before bathing they had teased each other for awhile and he had been surprised again by how her soft touches and warm mouth made him ready again so quickly. She backed away uncertainly when an especially loud and deliberate-sounding thump came from below. He had turned her eyes back to his, his hand holding her head still as her urged her hips forward. After, she collapsed trembling against his chest and he held her carefully, as if she were a creature of ether that would disappear if he tried to hold on too tightly. It amazed even him that he could feel no remorse for the pain he had caused Elsbeth, no sadness for the two who were to be his gift and would now be sold to the highest bidder. Then, as easily as drawing a breath, Kathryn stirred the dormant tenderness and warmth within him.

There was more to it than that though, he trusted her. The need to be pleasured by her mouth proved that. In those brief, blissful moments he was completely vulnerable to her, even if she didn't realize it. Actual trust in anyone but himself was something unfamiliar to him. There were those he trusted in a limited way, if he hadn't life in any community, mortal or vampire, would have been impossible. There were always conditions though and once his suspicions were roused there was no going back, even if those suspicions were proved to be unfounded.

Her hand gripped his and her brow knitted in her sleep and he wondered how she had inspired it so naturally. It might have been because she had never tried to prove herself to him. He had found that those who made grand gestures usually did so because they were trying to hide something. It might have been that she trusted him, without ever questioning his motives. He doubted he would ever be able to define the mechanism. At that moment he didn't want to. He kissed her shoulder softly and she relaxed and sighed contentedly in her sleep.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. The thought that her name was an omen flashed across his awareness for the second time that evening. Vespasian had elevated him to the rank of General after his decisive victory in Gaul. Still, he was probably one of the lesser known emperors today. History had lost the majority of his salacious scandals, but people had not lost the love of a good story. Those who had no dirty laundry to peek at were rarely talked about. He had to admit though, this was a most unusual family.

His surprise had almost been disastrous though. Usually he was able to keep his desire to speak from memory under control. It had never been easy, and as time went on there were so many things he wanted to tell her. His slip wasn't lost on her, either. He was lucky to have remembered the book. Kathryn moaned softly and arched against him. LaCroix tightened his arm around her possessively.


	36. Ease and Unease

36. Ease and Unease

Kathryn knew that he would wake up as soon as she had been up for a few minutes, but she tried to be quiet anyway. She hoped he would fall back to sleep before she finished her shower. She always felt guilty for waking him when she had to be somewhere early, and if he was awake she would be tempted to stay. She pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a white sweater over her white tank top, tied her hair back and left the tiny bathroom as quietly as she could. She was only slightly surprised when he grasped her wrist and pulled her down next to him in bed. Kathryn smiled, letting him possess her with a firm kiss and wandering hands.

"This is cruel you know." She laughed softly, his hand slid under the sweater.

"Cruel?" He smiled and squeezed her breast teasingly. "I've been called cruel many times, but never in quite this context."

"That's not what I meant." She gasped softly when he found her nipple, her mouth surrendered to his. "You know it's hard for me to leave when you do this."

"Good." A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. She had noticed those little smiles were more frequent and more relaxed lately.

"Not good. I can keep Corey waiting, Grandmother will be up here if I take too long." She laughed softly.

"The door is locked." His mouth trailed down to her shoulder, pulling the sweater out of the way as his mouth moved.

"You do think of everything." Kathryn closed her eyes and relaxed for moment, savoring the feeling of his mouth on her skin. "But this spa thing is something Grandmother really looks forward to."

"And you don't?" His lips teased hers lightly.

"Well right now I can think of something I would rather be doing but usually, yes." She laughed softly. "This time I really need to get something done with my hair though."

"What's wrong with it?" He looked down at her.

"Nothing's WRONG with it exactly, but I haven't even gotten it trimmed in months. Besides, I want it to look decent for Charlotte's party."

"I like it long." He said, looking down at her.

"So do I." Kathryn laughed softly, but was surprised he would have such a strong opinion about something as trivial as her hair. "It won't be drastic, I promise."

"What time will you be back?" He pulled her close and Kathryn settled against him.

"Well, Bridey usually has dinner ready by eight, and if we're not all sitting down by then she has a fit, so probably by seven-thirty or quarter of at the latest." Kathryn felt herself blush a bit when she mentioned Bridey. "Oh if there's anything you're allergic to or anything special you want you should tell her. She's a great cook but she doesn't like to make something else after the fact."

"I'll be fine, but it seems to me that she's very bold considering her position in the household." His brows were drawn together slightly. She kissed him softly.

"I guess we're less formal than you and Anna are." She said simply. "I really should go."

--

"Kathryn, tell me that's not all you're having." Minerva said when she saw Kathryn enjoying a banana in the kitchen as she glanced at the newspaper. Her grandmother had had it redone three years before and the warm country French style made it one of her favorite places in the house.

"It's nature's perfect food Grandmother." Kathryn smiled a little.

"But it's not much until lunchtime." Minerva wasn't usually so concerned about Kathryn's eating habits and it made her wonder why she was so concerned now.

"I always have a piece of fruit for breakfast. Usually oranges, but I couldn't find any." Kathryn took another bite. Minerva looked like she wanted to say something but Bridey's entrance interrupted her.

"Bridey, when do you go to the market next?" She asked.

"Tomorrow, same as always Mrs. B. There something special you want?"

"Oranges, if they aren't already on your list. Is there anything else you or Lucien want Kathryn?" Minerva asked.

"He's not picky, if it weren't for me his cupboards would be bare most of the time. Grapefruits are good too if they don't have any decent oranges, and orange juice." Kathryn found it hard to meet Bridey's eyes, even though she was telling herself since she woke up that she was probably worried over nothing.

"Citrus it is. You'll be at the spa today?" Bridey said, adding the fruit to her list.

"Yes." Kathryn said. "Lucien is probably still sleeping, but I'm sure that he'll be up before we get back."

"I'm not surprised." Bridey snorted, Kathryn blushed deeply and looked away.

"Why is that?" Minerva asked.

"I'd say you better ask Kathryn why that is. Course she really needs to talk about it in Confession." Bridey brushed at nonexistent crumbs on the counter.

"I don't need to confess anything to anyone Bridey." Kathryn said, sounding more confident than she felt.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Minerva sounded exasperated. Kathryn opened her mouth to speak, but Bridey beat her to it. She wasn't really sure what she was going to say anyway.

"Well it's like this Mrs. B., I was woke up out of a nice sleep by the sound of bedsprings creaking away like there was no tomorrow right over my head." Bridey's face was almost as red as Kathryn's. "I couldn't even say my prayers, it would have been indecent."

"So? You expect her to be celibate while she's here?" Minerva looked surprised to even be having the conversation.

"They aren't married. I told you no good would come of putting them in the same room, but it's your house so I did like you told me. The first night they're here she acts like a-"

"It IS my house Bridey. I'm sorry you were disturbed, I'm sure that wasn't anyone's intent, but I suggest you invest a couple of dollars in earplugs while Kathryn is visiting because I won't ask my guests to repress their feelings for each other while they're under my roof." Minerva said. Kathryn couldn't remember the last time she had seen her be even mildly reproachful to Bridey about anything.

"You was raised better than this." Bridey said to Kathryn.

"I'm sorry we woke you Bridey, but I don't feel like I did anything wrong." Kathryn knew she sounded more confident now.

"Of course you didn't." Minerva said. "We should get going, traffic is probably a nightmare." She handed Kathryn a set of keys. "We'll be back in time for dinner." She called over her shoulder.

--

"I was going to ask if your little problem had resolved itself," Minerva said as the two women relaxed under herbal masks. Kathryn could hear the little smile in her voice. "But from today's discussion it seems like it has."

"You said it would." Kathryn said, smiling a little herself, the mask hiding the her soft blush.

"And after meeting him I can see why you were so willing to work diligently at that resolution." Minerva said.

"Grandmother!" Kathryn laughed.

"What? I may be old, but I still have eyes." She laughed softly.

"I feel badly about upsetting Bridey like that though. I didn't realize until too late that we were right over her room." Kathryn said.

"Don't give it a second thought." Minerva said firmly. "She's a grown woman, she should be able to deal with the facts of life by now. If she can't, that's not your problem."

"She's probably home right now crocheting me a pillow to make the handbasket she thinks I'm going to Hell in more comfortable." Kathryn said. Minerva laughed.

"Bridey is entirely too Catholic sometimes."

"We're Catholic too Grandmother." Kathryn laughed softly. Her eyes were closed but she felt someone walk past them, and whoever it was stared long enough to send an icy chill down her spine.

"I know, but we're reasonable Catholics. We believe in all of the love and only about a hundredth of the guilt. That's all that's healthy for anyone anyway." Minerva said. Kathryn lifted her head a moment and looked around A curvaceous woman with masses of dark hair piled on her head seemed to lower her eyes as soon as Kathryn looked at her, of course that could have been just a bit of paranoia creeping in. She had never been completely comfortable lounging with strangers in only a bathrobe.

The woman made an impression though, wherever they went when Kathryn looked up, there she was. She was glad to be out of there, even through the traffic was particularly messy.


	37. Concern

37. Concern

Kathryn and Minerva came through the kitchen into the hall, each carried a small, pink shopping bag. Their laughter went ahead of them.

"Isn't that illegal in some states?" Kathryn asked, taking the scarf off of her head.

"Well if it isn't, it certainly ought to be." Minerva replied, shaking the snow off of her coat. It was nearly eight and she could hear Bridey mumbling in the dining room.

"What's that?" Lucien asked as he came into the hall. He took Minerva's hands, touched his cheek to hers and then took her coat.

"Bridey!" Minerva called. "Honestly, that woman would rather complain than anything else in the world." She said to Kathryn.

He helped Kathryn out of her jacket and kissed her softly. Then he tilted her chin up and looked closely at her, turning her head slightly to the left and then to the right. Kathryn was starting to feel more than a little nervous under his appraising eye.

"The style suits you, but you changed the color." He said finally.

"Just a few subtle highlights." Kathryn said. She had kept her promise about the general length, but he hadn't mentioned the color. Bridey finally appeared and he shoved the two coats at her. "I thought it looked a little blah. Do you think it's too much?"

"It's different, let me get used to it." He kissed her lightly again and Kathryn smiled up at him.

"Well, if everybody is finished looking at everybody else, dinner is going to waste." Bridey shut the closet door firmly and stalked into the dining room in a huff.

"I guess that's told us." Minerva looked embarrassed as she followed.

"Does that woman have any sense of her place?" He asked Kathryn softly. She could tell by the cold way he looked at Bridey that he knew exactly what he thought her place should be. Kathryn struggled to find the right words.

"Grandmother leaned on Bridey more than anyone else after Mother died. It's not like she just comes to work here and collects a paycheck, she's a companion for Grandmother too." Kathryn knew that it sounded like a lame excuse, but she didn't know how to express to him that the formality he expected from his servants just wasn't present here. "Please don't think too harshly of her."

He led her into the dining room with his hand in the small of her back. The table would easily seat ten as it was, more when it was expanded. Three settings were laid, one at the head of the table, and one on either side of it. Kathryn was glad that they weren't going to have to shout at each other.

"Kathryn, sit across from me." Minerva said, leaving the head of the table for him. When Bridey came in with the plates she seemed surprised to see him sitting there but she kept silent about it.

"Now, don't cut into these until I leave the room." Bridey set plates prepared with rare lamb chops, red potatoes and baby peas in front of each of them. "I can almost still hear those lambs crying for their mothers as it is." She filled the glasses and left into the kitchen. Kathryn caught his narrowed eyes as he watched Bridey retreat, but didn't say anything. He put his napkin on his lap and the ladies followed suit.

"So, what was it that should be illegal?" He asked after a moment. Kathryn and Minerva looked at each other and laughed again.

"Apparently the latest trendy ingredient in upmarket moisturizer is sheep foreskins." Kathryn said. His eyebrows rose slightly.

"You didn't-" He began.

"Oh god no." She and Minerva both laughed again. "I think the saleswoman was a little offended that we found it so funny and then said no, but you know how I insist on being conventional."

"Sometimes I'm quite glad that you do." Kathryn smiled at him and savored the slightly cool meat.

"Kathryn, do you remember that spa we went to in California right after 'Unrepentant' came out?" Minerva asked.

"How could I forget? That hot stone massage was one of the most relaxing things I've ever experienced. Do they do that here? I never looked at the list of services." Kathryn used to think it was the most relaxing thing, then she met Lucien and bathed with him for the first time. The look on Minerva's face told her that she had noticed the change in ranking, but she didn't comment.

"They do, but I've never thought any of their massage services was particularly outstanding." Minerva said. "We should try somewhere else before you go home."

"We say that every year and there's always some reason that we don't go." Kathryn laughed softly.

"Speaking of things we do every year, what are you wearing for Christmas dinner?" Minerva asked. Kathryn finished one of the chops and pushed the other aside.

"I brought a green jumper, kind of like the one I wore to Thanksgiving." She responded.

"You're not going to wear one of those dreary things are you?" Minerva looked slightly horrified and disappointed at the same time.

"I'm sorry Grandmother, I would have brought this great dress I made out of a flour sack and a piece of twine but I realized at the last minute that it was at the cleaners." Kathryn sipped her wine as if she had just commented on the weather.

"Now you know that isn't what I meant." Minerva said. "You're beautiful no matter what you wear but there's no reason you should dress to blend into the wallpaper."

Kathryn could feel him watching her, taking in the conversation.

"Are Uncle Harold and Jayne bringing the twins?" Kathryn asked.

"Yes, but-"

"Then there's a perfectly good reason. The girls will start running around after dinner and Jayne will claim she simply can't handle it and she'll tell me to watch them. I'm not going to sit on the floor and play games with a couple of five year olds in something that's not suited to the task." Kathryn said.

"What you must think of my manners." Minerva said to Lucien, seeming to remember he was there for the first time. "Harold is my son. Jayne is his second wife and the twins are his 'second family' so to speak. Jayne likes the idea of having children as long as there is someone else there to take care of them."

"I see. And that responsibility usually falls to Kathryn?" He said.

"Yes. Though you don't have to dress like a nun." Minerva continued. "Let's go to Raymond's tomorrow. I'm sure we can find you something that that suits you better."

"Alright Grandmother." Kathryn sighed a little. "Who else is coming? Just the usual people?"

"Pretty much." Minerva turned to Lucien again. "You'll probably be terribly bored. My sons tend to be rather dull, their wives tend to be rather vain. Several of Kathryn's cousins will be there as well and usually they bring dates. Sometimes that proves to be entertaining. Kathryn's father and Mira are in the Caribbean or Cancun or somewhere, so you'll be spared that singular pleasure for now."

"Cozumel." Kathryn offered.

"Yes, that's it. Mira's sons spend the holiday with their father and she insists on going to the beach. She doesn't seem to think of the fact that Kathryn might want to see her father at Christmas."

"Now you know that isn't fair." Kathryn said. "They invite me every year, and every year I say no."

"You say no because after ten minutes on the beach and you're as red as a boiled lobster." Minerva responded. "It's like inviting a mermaid to go mountain climbing."

"I'm sure there's a mixed metaphor in there somewhere." Kathryn repressed a small laugh. She had come to terms with the trip, her grandmother still hadn't.

"Mixed or not, I'm right." Minerva's eyes turned to Kathryn's plate. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine, why?"

"Because you haven't eaten hardly anything." Minerva said.

"I ate as much as I always do. Why all this sudden concern about my diet?" Kathryn sipped her wine, feeling a bit confused.

"I'm always concerned about you, you know that." Minerva brushed to comment aside but Kathryn could tell there was more to it. "At least finish some more of the lamb. Bridey made it especially for you, besides it's so good for your blood."

Kathryn caught the strange look Lucien gave her.

"What's wrong with my blood?" Kathryn would have laughed if it wasn't for that surprised glance and the way affected Minerva.

"Well, nothing," the older woman looked flustered, something Kathryn rarely saw. "But I saw something on television the other day about how young women your age are prone to anemia. I'm just concerned for you."

"Grandmother, you know as well as I do that I've never been anemic, but if it makes you feel any better I started taking vitamins a few months back. I really think I'm alright." Kathryn wondered where all of this was really coming from. Her grandmother had never paid much attention to information about nutrition. She thought most of it was nonsense.

"I didn't know that, but it does make me feel better." She smiled but Kathryn noticed that she was still fussing with the edges of her napkin. "Why don't we have our coffee in the sitting room? Go on in, I'll tell Bridey and join you."

--

LaCroix watched the two women converse and crochet baby hats for some charity or other from behind a newspaper. Even if he hadn't been focused on them, the light was entirely too bright for him to read comfortably. In times where rooms were lit by candles and oil lamps his heightened senses were a asset. This brightly lit age had its advantages, but he found it distinctly uncomfortable at times.

Minerva's comment at dinner had surprised him, and it had clearly surprised Minerva as well. It was possible that she was only concerned about Kathryn's health, he was too. The vitamins had been his suggestion. It still amazed him what information could be found on the Internet, he didn't want her feeling depleted and questioning why. From Kathryn's reaction though he set grandmotherly concern aside as unlikely. That left the obvious. Uneasy as it made him, finding out more would have to wait until the right moment. No matter what she suspected she clearly liked the fact that he was close to Kathryn.

The women chatted amiably until a little after two. When Minerva said her goodnights and went to bed he thought Kathryn looked relieved. He could tell that she related to Minerva in a way that she related to few other people, but she also wasn't accustomed to spending so much time in 'light conversation'. They passed many hours together in silence. Frequently, their conversations tended to be debates about everything from current events to why she thought one historian was more biased than another. He had found debate to be a lost art, but she made a more than adequate adversary. The first thing she did when Minerva was out of the room was turn off several lamps, then she curled up next to him without a word.

"Tired, my Kathryn?" He pulled her close and silently thanked her for dimming the lights.

"A little. This feels so good though." She sighed and relaxed against him.

"Would you like to hear a bit more of the Aeneid?" He smiled slightly at her surprise.

"I don't think Grandmother has a copy." She said, looking dejected.

"I didn't ask that." He laughed softly. He hadn't read to her since the evening Minerva extended her invitation. He knew she enjoyed it, and he had to admit he did too. He enjoyed the closeness with her, and he found he liked explaining things to her when she didn't understand the text.

"Yes, I would like to hear some more." She blushed softly.

"Wait here." He went quickly to the guest room and retrieved the book. When he returned she was wrapped in the crocheted throw from the back of the sofa. She curled up against him again.

"That's not the same one you had at the house." She relaxed against him, but looked curiously at the book.

"No, I had another, more recent copy at the apartment." Kathryn relaxed against him and closed her eyes.

"I thought I had ruined this." She said softly.

"Why?" He looked down at her curiously.

"Because the last time you read to me was the night-" She stopped searching for the right words. "The night you talked to Grandmother for the first time."

"An oversight on my part." He kissed her forehead softly. He knew anyone who had ever run afoul of his temper would say that the way he dealt with her that night was exceptionally mild. Perhaps it was, but he didn't want her to fear him. Fear worked very well with those one wanted to hold at arm's length, but it was an exceptionally poor way to hold someone in one's heart. He credited Nicholas for teaching him that, he had simply grasped the lesson too late. Whatever the tactic, the message had been conveyed. He hadn't known how well until that moment. "Do you remember where I left off?"

She told him and then closed her eyes again, a contented little smile on her lips.


	38. Roads

Author's Note: It is not my intention to offend anyone's religion. The opinions expressed by the characters were derived from what makes logical sense in the context of their own personal histories.

psyche b.

* * *

38. Roads

Kathryn rose even earlier the next day. They shopped and she did manage to find something a bit more flattering than the jumper. When she and Minerva returned to the house at two they found that Lucien was still sleeping.

"What are your plans for decorating this year?" Kathryn asked, looking around the sitting room.

"I don't know really." Minerva sighed a little. "I suppose we could put up Michael's tree, somehow I can't get very excited about that though."

"If we do we'll have to cut half of it off, it's way too big to go anywhere in this house." Kathryn said. "I don't know what Uncle Michael was thinking." Her Uncle Michael sent his mother a tree every year for Christmas, or someone he paid did. Kathryn doubted he put much thought into it, but she kept that to herself. The tree was kept in the garage until Kathryn got there.

"What he's always thinking of, himself. A tree that size would fit easily into that cavernous entry of his. Still, I suppose we should do something with it." Minerva didn't sound excited and Kathryn didn't like the idea of trying to cut a tree in half with her grandmother's uncooperative hand saw.

"I have an idea, though if you let me do it you won't have a tree left." Kathryn said, a little smile on her lips.

"I'm all ears." Minerva was smiling a little too.

"Let's make garlands and wreaths."

Minerva thought for a moment.

"I like it, but people will be expecting lights." She said finally.

"They'll have lights, I just need a few supplies." She grinned.

"You know where the keys are." Minerva said. "Bridey and I will start on the tree while you're gone."

--

LaCroix came downstairs to find a trail of pine needles through the hall and the door to the sitting room closed. He heard Kathryn's laughter first, the Minerva's. Bridey walked through grumbling about the mess.

"I'm going out Bridey." He said simply. "What are they up to in there?"

"Paving the road to Hell if you ask me. You can't have Christmas without the baby Jesus in the manger, but try telling that to those two." She continued through to the kitchen, still grumbling about living in a house full of heathens.

He hunted quickly, mechanically. In the beginning the kill took all of his attention. It was a sensual experience that involved every fiber of his awareness. Like so many things though, it had become routine over the centuries. There were more times than not that he still gave himself to it completely. Mortals enjoyed a good meal, so did his kind. Tonight the need was there, but the desire to waste time in the pursuit of a simple physical need did not appeal to him. Besides, he had noticed that the number of choices around the holidays sharply declined. He had no desire to try and find the least wretched of the dregs of society.

He returned to Minerva's house and found Kathryn vacuuming, he tried not to grimace at the sound. She jumped slightly when she saw him.

"I thought you were still sleeping." She said, after turning off the machine. Just like excessive light of this age disagreed with his eyes, the excessive noise grated on his hearing.

"Bridey didn't tell you I had gone out?" She reached out to take his coat but he hung it himself before kissing her softly.

"No. I guess she was busy." Kathryn smiled a bit but couldn't meet his eyes as she said it.

"She made it sound like you've been busy too." He said, a little smile touching his lips when he thought about her laughter.

"Of course, it's hard work single-handedly destroying Christmas." Kathryn laughed a little. "Come in, see what you think."

The thought of celebrating the birth of a Jewish peasant who had the power to rouse other malcontented peasants to rebellion had never seemed entirely logical or appealing to him. The religion that grew up around that peasant further angered him in the way it attempted to compel faith through violence. Kathryn had been right when she said ritual was a bound people together, it was the part of religion that took little if any faith at all. It required no faith in the god or goddess to make a sacrifice, but it did connect you to others who were sacrificing. To him, the act was all that was necessary to maintain social order. That was the ultimate function of any religion anyway. Faith was an ephemeral matter that he had never cared to speculate about.

LaCroix had to admit he was surprised by the transformation of the sitting room. He had been expecting a decorated tree, but was pleasantly surprised to find evergreen boughs arranged on the fireplace mantle, on the windowsills, the tables and over the doors. In most of the garlands wheat and apples had been arranged with the greenery. Candles glowed softly from several locations. When he looked closer he noticed that multiples of twelve appeared everywhere. The greenery was a bit different, but it reminded him more of Saturnalia than the Christian holiday.

"Where did you get this idea?" He asked softly, barely able to resist the undertow of familiarity that pulled at him.

"For what?" Kathryn said, he realized she looked a little concerned and so did Minerva.

"The way you put this together." He regained his composure. "It's beautiful, just not what I was expecting."

"I had a dream about a room like this last night. It wasn't JUST like this. The room itself was completely different and I don't remember much else but I remember bringing in greenery and there being lights and it was some kind of celebration. Weird writer's imagination I guess." Kathryn shrugged a little and looked at Minerva. "I just hope it isn't too drastic for the family."

"They'll manage. If they don't, they can stay home next year. I think it's beautiful." Minerva said firmly.

--

"Tell me more about your dream." He said softly as they lay in bed. The tug of familiarity he had experienced earlier had been too great to let it rest. He had spent most of the rest of the evening trying to assemble the scattered pieces in his mind and finding that he was still unable to see the a picture emerge.

"What dream?" She asked sleepily.

"Your decorating dream." She was on her side and he was spooned behind her. She had mentioned once that when he wrapped around her like that she felt protected from the world.

"I don't remember anything else. At first I thought it was going to be my nightmare, I felt like I was the same person as in the nightmare, but then it turned out to be a good dream." She was smiling a little as she said it. He decided to pursue the point a little further.

"What made it feel different?" He asked softly, one hand casually stroking her stomach. He noticed her brow knit slightly.

"I felt safer. Like for a little while I didn't have to worry. Even before the other one turns bad I always feel like there's some kind of danger." His hand hesitated for a moment, the tug making him close his eyes. LaCroix decided to risk one more question.

"What were you safer from?" When she was silent longer than he expected he listened carefully to her heart and breathing and realized she had slipped below the surface of sleep. LaCroix realized from the beginning that she was very good at giving the impression of fearlessness, but that was only her armor. Her fears sometimes made sense, often they didn't. He began to wonder if they made perfect sense in the context of the past. He looked down at her small hand resting on his and very carefully made sure that she wouldn't remember his curiosity. He found that he disliked manipulating her like that and the fact was he did it very rarely, but he wasn't ready to tell her why he was so curious about something so trivial.

LaCroix searched through his memories of the dim past until he fell asleep. He knew that she was connected to Fleur in some way, but he was now convinced that she was someone from his mortal life. Something would trigger his memory and he told himself that when he did he would have to keep his emotions strictly controlled to insure she wouldn't think him mad.


	39. Affect Management

Mad World by Gary Jules appeared on the Donnie Darko soundtrack in 2002, unfortunately that's all I know about the song.

psyche b.

* * *

39. Affect Management

Kathryn stretched against him and tried to force herself to get up. On Christmas Eve day she, her grandmother and Bridey always started preparing the next day's meal so that it would be a little easier for Bridey to pull all together. Usually it was something Kathryn looked forward to, but his arm was around her waist, and she could feel his breath on her shoulder and she couldn't quite convince herself that she should squirm away from him. Besides, it was still so early. She relaxed again, her eyes closed.

This visit was not at all what she expected. Her grandmother actually liked him, and the more time Minerva spent with him the more fond of him she seemed to get. What was even better, he seemed genuinely fond of Minerva as well. One of the things that she had worried about but didn't want to admit to herself was that he would treat her grandmother like he treated most people, like an underling.

He did have his odd moments, though to be fair he had those at home too. The decorations were the latest incident, but the faraway look he got for a moment was unlike anything she had seen before. Later she had asked him if he had been honest in his opinion. He had simply kissed her and asked if she had ever known him to misrepresent an opinion. Of course she hadn't. The familiarity that she had become so used to had changed too. It seemed stronger here for some reason. Kathryn forced herself to open her eyes and started to move out from under his arm carefully.

"No." He said firmly, his arm tightening around her. She had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realize that he had been awake the whole time.

"I have to." Kathryn said murmured, she turned and kissed him softly. His mouth was soft but that familiar hunger was there.

"Why?" His hands explored her back and hips.

"Because, they expect me to help." Kathryn's mouth traveled down to the front of his throat, her teeth grazing his skin lightly. It was a silly answer, but at that moment she couldn't think of anything more convincing. It was possible that she didn't want to. He moaned softly, his arms tightened around her and he was silent a moment.

"Not good enough." He said finally.

"Because it's tradition." She moaned as his tongue pressed into her mouth. Resisting was getting harder and she knew that's what he was counting on. "And because after there are presents." She said finally.

"I thought you did that tomorrow evening." He tweaked a hard nipple gently, Kathryn tensed and shivered. "When the family is gathered together."

"For the family presents yes." Kathryn trailed her fingernails down over his torso lightly, feeling him tense. He moved her onto her back. "Grandmother and I always give each other something special before though."

"You expect me to let you go when I'm not included?" His tongue swirled around her nipple and Kathryn arched. Both of her hands held his head to her breast. She had explained the tradition to him before coming, but that didn't matter to her at that moment. As long as his mouth and hands were on her, all was right with the world.

"Of course you're incl-" She whimpered sharply when he bit down, she pressed against his shoulders and struggled but his arms held her still. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and Kathryn started to sob. "Stop, please." She whimpered, struggling harder, her fear rising. Her nails bit into his shoulder and as quickly as the pain began it stopped, changing to a soft, suckling pressure. She whimpered and relaxed, her eyes closed. She let the pleasure wash over her, sweeping away the memory of the pain.

The pressure of his mouth was driving her crazy. His fingers teased her other nipple and then trailed lightly down her body, Kathryn squirmed and arched under him. At home she would have cried out, but here, even though everyone would be moving around in the kitchen she couldn't bear to be heard screaming in ecstasy, no matter how natural anyone said it was. She bit down on the pillow to muffle her cry.

"I already have what I want." Two fingers pushed deep inside her slick passage without warning. Kathryn tensed and twisted under him. When she opened her eyes he was looking down at her, his thumb casually exploring her folds until he found the tiny treasure he was searching for. He teased it softly. That and the movements of his fingers were perfectly calculated to bring her close, but not allow her to finish.

"You can have that anytime." She breathed, pressing her hips against his hand. She felt his hardness against her thigh.

"Really?" His lips teased hers softly, carefully maintaining her in that state of indescribable need. "So this evening, while we are all gathered in the sitting room, if I tell you that this-" he curled his fingers slightly inside of her and Kathryn almost got the release she was yearning for. "Is what I want you will present me with my gift?"

"Well, not in front of Grandmother." She whimpered softly, on the edge of begging. She reached down to stroke him but he shifted away from her hand. Kathryn whined softly.

"There was a time when that wasn't so unusual, a mother or grandmother would offer the, shall we say comfort, of the young woman in her care to a man who was considered desirable by the family." Kathryn was beyond caring that she was squirming obscenely against his hand. "Occasionally, the older woman would watch from a discreet distance, just to make sure the act was complete. Perhaps that's fallen out of favor today though." His thumb flicked the sensitive bundle of nerve endings lightly, as if considering the prospect. Kathryn whimpered, close to tears. His tongue swept the shell of her ear lightly. "Would you like to finish?"

"Oh God yes, please." Kathryn's voice sounded desperate, it matched perfectly how she was feeling.

"Get on your knees." His voice was soft and absolutely controlled, as it had been all along. He withdrew his fingers slowly and Kathryn moved into position. He took his time moving behind her, and positioned himself at her entrance. The pillow muffled her cry as he pressed deep inside her. He took her forcefully, but that added to the intensity of her own release. Her world seemed to soften and dim before she felt his mouth close on her shoulder. She lay limp under him, moaning softly.

--

The world stayed far away for a few minutes as he shifted her body, when she felt connected with her body again she was resting against his chest. She felt completely sated, sore and, and what? Owned was the only word that came to mind. It sent a shiver through her and he wrapped the covers around her shoulders. One hand stroked her back softly and Kathryn wondered if that was such a bad feeling.

"You have quite a way of keeping me here." She murmured, kissing his collarbone lightly.

"It worked." She could hear the little smile in his voice. "Besides, I could have sworn you were enjoying yourself at one point."

Kathryn blushed deeply and laughed a little.

"Well, maybe just a little." She looked up at him with a teasing smile, the tiny bit of light leaking in from under the door allowed her to just about make out the shape of his body in the darkness.

"Only a little?" She heard his smile and he pinched her nipple softly. Kathryn was shocked to feel sharp pain instead of sweet pressure. She barely managed to bite back a cry but she did retreat from him. He followed. "What's wrong?" There was concern and guarded uncertainty in his voice.

"I'm not sure, but that hurt a lot." Kathryn replied, searching for switch of the lamp on her side of the bed in the dark room.

"Stop." He got up and turned it on. Kathryn blushed deeply and wished she had just managed to be silent as he took the covers away from her breasts. Both of her nipples hardened immediately, one was the usual rosy pink, the other was the deep purple of a bruise. His thumb stroked it softly and she flinched at the discomfort. She had never seen him at a loss for words, but the way he looked at the bruise made it seem to her more like a personal failure than a passionate accident. Kathryn gripped his hand and kissed it softly, she saw surprise around his eyes as he looked at her.

"Having you all the way over there makes me so self-conscious, especially when I need you over here." She said softly, tugging his arm. He settled next to her and Kathryn curled up against him again. After a moment's uncertainty he held onto her as if she might suddenly disappear.

--

LaCroix heard the reproaches echo in his mind as he held her. He hurt everyone he touched. Drove away those he claimed to care about. He was incapable of love. He was a blight on the world, a destroyer of innocence and a thousand other evil things that had been hurled at him by Nicholas and countless others. Yet, she didn't pull away from him. She wanted his comfort, even though he had been the one who injured her.

He knew as soon as he felt her breathing change that he wanted her, when he felt her easy response he knew he wouldn't have stopped. His need for her blood had been intense, and he hadn't been as careful as usual in making a small wound. Her struggles should have told him something was wrong, but he didn't realize how forceful he had been until he saw the large scabbed wound. The feeling of one fang puncturing her flesh came back to him and his arms tightened around her. She saw only the bruise because of the suggestions he planted all those months ago, but the bruise alone was bad enough. The sight of the two together seemed to him to be a mark of failure. He had hurt her before, but those times were different. He hadn't lost control, he had either misjudged her fragility or had needed to be forceful with her. She shifted slightly and he thought for a panicked moment that she was leaving. The he felt her lips brush the side of his neck.

"I'm not going anywhere." She said softly. She was stroking his back. How long had it been since someone offered him comfort? How long had it been since he accepted it?

"Kathryn-" He started, trying to think of how to blunder through an apology. Her soft kiss silenced him.

"I don't need to hear you say it, I feel it in the way you hold me." He looked down at her, searching her face for any sign of fear, anger, rejection or dishonesty. He saw only her steady eyes and a small smile on her lips. "I can live with the occasional bruise, they heal. I couldn't live with asking you to be less passionate."

He kissed her softly and then uncovered her breasts again, color bloomed in her cheeks as it always did, but she made no move to stop him. He watched her face as he ran his tongue lightly around the injured flesh. The experience of pain was different for vampires. Pain could be inflicted and it was felt in the same way at first, but the discomfort of minor wounds receded quickly. When he struck Elsbeth the first time he knew he was injuring her pride more than her physical body. More severe injuries needed more time, but pain still ebbed much more quickly than it did for mortals. Kathryn trembled, but he could tell it was simply because even that light touch was painful for her. She didn't try to stop him. She didn't ask him not to. He moved back to her mouth and she relaxed and responded to his kiss as she always did.

"You look tired." She said softly, stroking his cheek. There was concern in her eyes. "That's my fault."

"I'm used to you sharing my schedule, but it's not your fault." He carefully gathered her into his arms again. "Do you have to leave?" He hated to ask the question, he didn't want to let her go.

"I'm going to start a new tradition, sleeping in on Christmas Eve day." She smiled a little and relaxed against him, her eyes closed. He turned the light out and she sighed comfortably. She moved her hand lightly over his stomach until she found his hand, and she laced her fingers with his. He listened to her breathing deepen and felt her body relax.

LaCroix looked down at her and felt himself drifting toward sleep as well. She was right, he was tired and his exhaustion had contributed to his lack of control. Her forgiveness didn't make it alright, neither did her understanding. She gripped his hand in her sleep and he smiled slightly.

"Who are you Kathryn Paige?" He whispered softly. The need to know was almost a physical ache, but at moments like this he wondered if who she had been in the past was as important as who she was at this moment.

--

They both slept a little later than usual, but Kathryn could tell that he was more rested. She was too. Her nipple throbbed dully, but she wasn't about to tell him that. He was upset enough about it, telling him that she was in pain would only make him feel worse. She had noticed that as high as his standards were for others, they were even higher for himself.

Before she dressed he insisted on seeing it. She opened her mouth to protest but he was wearing his 'that was not a request, that was an order' look. Kathryn hated the fact that she still blushed when he looked at her, and in the end he was the one who pushed her nightgown aside. It looked a bit worse than she remembered, but that didn't change her mind about what she said earlier. She loved his intensity and she wouldn't have traded it for anything. She kissed him goodbye in the hall before going into the kitchen.

"Well, it's about time you put in an appearance." Bridey said.

"Sorry," Kathryn replied. "My schedule is all turned around, and being up so early the past few days made me more tired than I realized. What's left?"

"Precious little." Bridey was angry, but Kathryn found that she didn't really care why. The last few days Bridey had been thoroughly unpleasant at best and downright rude at worst. If she didn't like Lucien that was fine, but she didn't have to act like a child about it.

"Why don't you do the veggie platter, you always make it look so nice." Minerva said. Kathryn gathered the vegetables and started washing them.

"And where is he? Too good to get his hands dirty?" Bridey was mixing filling for pies, Minerva was decorating cookies with a pastry bag.

"He's gone out, but he doesn't cook anyway." Kathryn said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. Even if he did she wouldn't have asked him to help.

"Doesn't cook, doesn't keep any food in the house, sleeps the whole day away and then goes out and wanders around in the dark of night." Bridey grumbled.

"Are you getting at something Bridey?" Kathryn couldn't quite control her tone this time. It was all true, but it was none of her business.

"That's a good question." Minerva put down the pastry bag. "I'd like to hear the answer to that too."

"All's I'm saying is that there's something wrong with him and you two are too caught up in him to realize it. Sure he can be charming in an oily kinda way. Most of the time he acts like a horse's backside, and that might even be an insult to a perfectly respectable beast." She was looking at the pie filling. Minerva was about to speak but Kathryn recovered first.

"Bridey, you know I love you, but the fact is you don't have to like him. You also don't have to be insulting and contrary at every turn." She turned her back to Bridey, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"He doesn't have to talk to me like I'm a slave either." She countered. "You know he told me to call him Sir? I told him I wouldn't be calling him anything of the kind."

"That's what his housekeeper calls him, I'm sure he doesn't see it as something unreasonable." Kathryn cut the celery and carrots into sticks quickly.

"Of course you defend him, he's got your head all turned around. You're not the same person who came home last summer."

"You're right. I don't think I've ever been so comfortable in my own skin as I am when I'm with him." Kathryn took a deep breath to steady her hand before starting to trim radishes into roses. She couldn't remember the last time she was this angry at Bridey.

"That's nonsense-"

"I've heard just about enough." Minerva said firmly. "Bridey, everyone in this house is entitled to their feelings. You don't like him, I accept that and so does Kathryn. You have to accept that Kathryn's relationship is none of your business. If you can't, then I suppose we'll just have to get along without you until they leave."

"Mrs. B-" Bridey looked stunned. Kathryn was too.

"I'm not going to change my mind Bridey. You are very dear to me, but Kathryn is my family, her happiness is first in my heart. Do we have an understanding?" Minerva was positively cold. Kathryn had seen her speak that way to others, but it was rare and it still shocked her each time. Bridey was silent, considering her response.

"You can't ask me to treat him like everything's fine and happy." She said finally.

"No, but I will ask you to respect him as my guest."

"Then yes, we have an understanding." She turned back to her pie filling.

For the next hour they finished up the preparations in silence. Kathryn was thoroughly confused about her feelings. Bridey wasn't the type to take an instant dislike to someone for no reason, but Kathryn wasn't about to structure her life around someone else's opinion of how she SHOULD feel. At least her grandmother agreed with that much, but it wasn't easy being in the middle of such tension. It hurt her to think she might have driven a wedge between the two women who had practically raised her after her mother died. Once everything was put away she retreated to small room where her grandmother kept the piano.

--

LaCroix heard her playing as soon as he got in. Hunting had taken longer than he expected. It seemed that most of the street people had taken refuge in some shelter or other to pass the holiday with others of their own ilk and those who used this time of year to ease their own guilt. He had considered taking someone a bit higher up on the social ladder until a shivering boy approached him asking if he wanted a 'date'. Not being one to refuse such a kind offer he allowed the lad to lead him to privacy, and then he led the boy into death. Sometimes it was deliciously simple.

She was playing Beethoven, but she was close to the end of the piece. He followed the direction of the music, arriving at the door just in time to hear the music change to something he was unfamiliar with. He leaned against the door frame, watching her back, noticing again there was no music spread out in front of her. He found himself hoping that she would sing, and she didn't disappoint.

"All around me are familiar faces,

Worn out places, worn out faces,

Bright and early for the daily races,

Going nowhere, Going nowhere

Their tears are filling up their glasses,

No expression, no expression

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow

No tomorrow, no tomorrow"

Her voice was stronger than before, probably because she wasn't self-conscious about him listening. It also struck him that it was much sadder. The song was darker than he had expected to hear from her as well, but it moved him, as her voice had before. He wondered if he would have felt the same had someone else been singing the same song.

"And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad

That the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it's a very very

Mad World, Mad World."

LaCroix laid his hand on her shoulder softly, and she stopped playing and looked at him. He could tell she'd been crying.

"When did you get back?" She forced a smile made room for him on the bench.

"A few minutes ago." He kissed her softly and sat down. "You have such a beautiful voice."

"Thanks." She blushed and looked away, trying to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes.

"Is it the song that made you cry?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him. He knew it wasn't the song, but he found that if he was too direct she tended to retreat.

"No, it's nothing." She shook her head a little.

"No it isn't. I've known a many women who cried over nothing, you're not one of them." He lifted her chin and brushed a tear away.

"Just an ugly scene with Bridey." She looked away and sighed deeply. "She was mad and I was mad and Grandmother told her to cope or leave."

"That sounds like a reasonable solution to me." She turned toward him and rested more against his shoulder. LaCroix brushed the hair out of her face. "But it doesn't please you."

"I don't know, it makes me feel like some kind of instigator." He rubbed the back of her neck softly.

"What did she choose?" He asked softly.

"To stay, as long as we knew she wasn't happy." He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

"Her happiness doesn't matter." He knew their disagreement had been about him, even if Kathryn had tactfully avoided mentioning it. Frankly, he didn't care what a servant thought. He did care that the discord affected Kathryn so deeply. She smiled slightly.

"Grandmother said something like that."

"Minerva is a wise woman." He kissed her softly and thought a moment. "Do you have a piano in your house?" He could tell she was taken off guard by the question and that was precisely what he wanted. He was very good with practical matters and even though she made it much easier for him to reach his emotional side he still wasn't entirely comfortable with dwelling on it.

"Yes, sort of. Why?"

"I'm not sure I understand that answer." He chuckled and a soft blush colored her cheeks.

"I have an upright that belonged to the people who lived there before, but several of the keys don't work. The man who tunes it says it would cost more than the piano is worth to get them fixed and I haven't been able to convince myself that I should spend the money on it. So you kind of have to use your imagination sometimes when I play." She laughed a little.

"When we get back to the apartment we'll find one that's intact. I think I would like to listen to you play on a regular basis." He smiled slightly and she shook her head.

"I would love that, but upstairs there's no place for a piano, I don't even know how you would get one in-" He touched a finger to her lips lightly.

"I always get what I want Kathryn." He kissed her softly and felt her relax against him. That wasn't completely accurate, but it was close enough for his purposes. "Do you know the four hand arrangement of Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers?"

"I think so; it's been awhile since I've tried to play it though." He began and she picked it up perfectly.

"You do know it." The piano had merely been a curiosity for him. He was skilled enough, having nothing but time made it exceptionally easy to become skilled at all the little interests that mortals spent their lives perfecting. He knew that his own playing lacked emotion, and it had never been a pleasure to him like it was to her. This was one of the few pieces he clearly remembered, and probably only because of his teacher. The middle-aged woman could not have be described as lovely by any stretch of the imagination, but when she was playing this particular piece her whole face seemed to change and that had always fascinated him. Kathryn seemed more relaxed, and that was all he was really interested in anyway.


	40. Gifts

40. Gifts

Dinner that evening was salads and sandwiches. Bridey had no desire to cook after getting things ready for the next day. Neither did Kathryn and Minerva. Minerva and Kathryn talked a little about Charlotte's party, but for the most part it was a quiet meal.

"Let me help you clear, Bridey." Kathryn said.

"You don't have to-"

"I know." She collected plates, silverware and glasses. "Go on into the sitting room, I won't be long." Lucien and Minerva looked at each other, but got up and left. While it hadn't been discussed Kathryn was fairly certain the subdued mood had been because of the incident.

"Bridey, I'm sorry about earlier." Kathryn said as soon as the door was closed.

"I'm the one should be apologizing to you." Bridey sat down at the kitchen table and Kathryn sat with her. "I don't know what's got into me. I know you're a grown woman with a good head on your shoulders. He's just totally opposite of the kind of man I pictured you with."

"He's not what I pictured either." Kathryn smiled a little.

"He isn't?" She looked genuinely surprised.

"No, and there are times he makes me so frustrated I want to scream." Both women laughed softly. "But when I met him it's like something clicked into place. I don't know how else to describe it."

"That's how it happened for me and Mr. Kirk." Bridey smiled sadly, she had married at nineteen was was widowed after only five years when Mr. Kirk was killed in a construction accident. Immediately after that she came to work for Minerva and her grandfather, Marcus. That's all she had ever told Kathryn about Mr. Kirk and Kathryn had never pressed for information. "I knew he was the one. My father wasn't happy about it either but we ran off together and got married. I wouldn't trade those years of happiness for anything less than Heaven itself. He could do some things that drove me to distraction though." She laughed softly, even though there were tears in her eyes. Kathryn gripped her hand.

"I'm so sorry you lost him."

"God don't mean us to yearn for what we've lost. He means us to be grateful for what we have." She brushed at her eyes and smiled. "They're probably wondering what's taking you so long."

"Probably, I just couldn't leave things like that between us." Bridey got up and hugged Kathryn.

"You've got a good heart Kathryn Paige. Go on in," She said after a few minutes. "Mrs. B.'s surprise is all set up too."

"Thanks Bridey, for everything." She said.

"You're welcome, now shoo."

--

"How long did Kathryn take piano lessons?" He was genuinely curious, but he also didn't wish to sit in silence.

"She didn't." Minerva replied, looking a little surprised. He was surprised too.

"But she plays-"

"Yes, I know. Since she was very little she could imitate just about anything that struck her fancy. When Kathryn was three Octavia woke up at one in the morning to the sound of someone playing "Old MacDonald" on the piano. She went downstairs, not knowing who was going to be there and found Kathryn. Apparently she had a toy that played that song and the batteries had died, so she played it for herself." Minerva laughed softly at the memory. "After she got a little older we all tried to get her to take formal lessons, but she was never interested, no matter what any of us said. The last thing her mother and I wanted was to make her hate it, so we stopped pushing."

"So she doesn't read music?" He was even more impressed with her skill now.

"Not a note as far as I know. Didn't she tell you?" Minerva looked curious.

"Another one of those things I didn't ask." He replied, smiling slightly.

"She probably wouldn't have mentioned it on her own; she thinks it's nothing special. It doesn't seem to occur to her that no one else in the family can do it." Minerva smiled a little.

"Did anyone want coffee?" Kathryn stood in the door looking more relaxed than she had most of that evening. LaCroix found himself wondering what other talents she had that she thought were 'nothing special'.

"I don't think so," Minerva said. "Unless you-" He shook his head. LaCroix knew he could still feign dining convincingly enough, but there was no need to put anyone to more trouble on his behalf. Kathryn sat down next to him.

"Time for presents?" She said, smiling a little.

"You've said that same thing the same way since you were five." Minerva laughed.

"It's always worked." She laughed softly. LaCroix had never found Kathryn to be materialistic, but he knew she loved to be surprised. She also loved to see others enjoying something she had given them. "Besides, this year you go first Grandmother." She handed Minerva a small, flat box. Minerva opened it and pulled out a single sheet of cream colored paper. She looked confused but read the note out loud.

"'They say the windows to the soul are the eyes. Look in the dining room for your next surprise.' Just what are you playing at Kathryn?" There was a curious gleam in her eye and the smile on her lips mirrored Kathryn's.

"You're always saying how you love a good mystery; you'll just have to follow the clues." Kathryn replied. LaCroix had to admit, he was surprised himself. He had come back to the apartment one night to find her putting wrapped packages in a large box and she described what she had gotten for most of the family. He thought there was something in there for Minerva as well, but it was possible he was mistaken. While he knew she was excited the list of sweaters, small pieces of jewelry and books hardly interested him. They followed Minerva into the dining room. The table was cleaned and a similar package had been placed on it.

"'A knowing smile graces a lady's full lips, off to the kitchen for the third of my quips.'" Minerva looked over her shoulder at him. "If I had known my granddaughter intended us to go on a scavenger hunt I wouldn't have sat at dinner so long." LaCroix smiled and followed after her, his hand in the small of Kathryn's back. She was nearly as excited as Minerva was. Minerva tore the paper off the next package and tossed it aside.

"'The lady's brow, high and refined. To the hall to further broaden the image in your mind.'" Minerva walked quickly now, leaving the box and note behind. When she found the next one she tore the paper off with the hunger of a child.

"'Picture her gleaming hair and the image should be clenched. Your next clue is to be found on the piano bench.'" Kathryn was practically trembling and so was Minerva. They followed quickly after her.

"'Her nose so straight and her skin so pale, the sitting room is the end of your breadcrumb trail.'" Minerva looked at Kathryn. "I'm an old woman you know, I could have heart failure." Kathryn laughed and followed her. LaCroix had to admit his curiosity was more than piqued, he was surprised to see a different draped painting with a note pinned to the red velvet covering.

"'Eyes, skin, hair, brow and lips all combine to create a face. Here's another ancestor to take her place.'" Minerva's voice trailed off and she turned to Kathryn. She looked shocked. "You found her?"

"Look and see." Kathryn's hands were clasped under her chin, she was smiling broadly. Minerva carefully took the cloth off the painting. Again, a woman very similar to Kathryn and the others, but this portrait was the oldest of the group. Minerva held Kathryn tightly; there were tears in her eyes.

"What you must think of us." Minerva said after a few minutes, wiping at her eyes and sitting down again. He and Kathryn followed suit. "This is Agrippina, Augusta Julia's mother. We always knew there was a portrait of her somewhere but no one in the family could find it. How DID you find it?"

"It was a complete accident really. You know how I have a hard time sleeping in June, so I went out for a ride and happened on an estate sale. I looked around a little and noticed this man staring at me. Finally I asked what was wrong and he said 'you look just like the woman in the painting'. I knew as soon as I saw it that it had to be her." LaCroix filed away the bit of information about her difficulty sleeping in the month of June. He would have to ask her about it in a quieter moment.

"Were they distant relatives?" Minerva asked.

"Not that he or I could determine, no." Kathryn answered.

"Well then how did they come to own it?" She was speaking to Kathryn but looking at the painting.

"He didn't really know. He remembered it always being in his grandparent's house, but no one knew where it came from before that. His grandmother had always told different stories every time someone asked her so he had no idea which, if any, of those were true. If someone asked his grandfather he would tell them to ask the grandmother." Minerva shook her head and gripped Kathryn's hands across the coffee table. Both women had was could only be described as a glow.

"I'm surprised it left your family in the first place." He said, studying the image, allowing the women to have their moment.

"That's one of those things that happen in a moment, but haunt the generations that follow." Minerva started. "Agrippina died minutes after Augusta Julia was born. That wasn't so uncommon then, but her husband went mad with grief. He tore the house apart, destroying almost everything that had any connection to his wife. The midwife saved Augusta Julia or he would have probably killed her. The story was that Agrippina's personal maid saved the painting so that the child would have something of her mother's. Augusta Julia and the painting went to Agrippina's mother Messalina at first, but she passed away when Augusta Julia was eight. After that, she went to a string of relatives and drifted from one distant branch of the family to another until she managed to make a suitable match. In the process, she and the painting were separated. She searched for the painting, some say the rest of her life, but no one would admit to having it. After that, every so often one of us would get a lead, but it never worked out."

"Amazing to think you found it by accident." He said to Kathryn, wondering how accidental it really was.

"Just luck. That's how I found your present too, though yours was a more recent find. I hope you're still happy with my detective skills." Kathryn laughed softly, but he could tell she was nervous about it.

"Tomorrow you'll have to tell me how you set all this up." Minerva said. "Right now though, we should get on with this." Minerva settled back and Kathryn set two large packages next to him on the sofa. This was something that he hadn't seen in the apartment.

"You haven't taken to etching messages on stones have you?" He asked, a little smile on his lips as he opened the smaller of the two packages.

"Not this year, but I'll make sure to keep it in mind." She said with a little smirk.

He pulled a similar note out of the box.

"'To light your way.'" He read out loud. Now he was curious. He withdrew a tree-trunk styled lamp base. There was clearly some age to it and he was fairly certain that he recognized it, but he decided to reserve his judgment until he opened what he presumed was the shade.

"That's incredible!" Minerva said as he took a stained glass shade out of the well cushioned box. It was indeed incredible. He recognized the leaves and grapes instantly as Tiffany. He had told her about a lamp he had that was similar when she noticed something seemed missing in the small sitting room off the music room at the house. It had been broken by one of the house maids and he hadn't found anything else that suited the spot. Each Tiffany piece was unique, his hadn't had the grape clusters, but they definitely added something to the overall effect. The blend of greens, purples and blues was truly beautiful. He kissed her softly. "What made you remember?" He asked.

"You never talk about objects, when you do it usually means they're very special to you." He had several other questions, like where she had found it and what had possessed her to purchase a piece like that for him when she wouldn't fix her own piano.

"You are something truly unique Kathryn. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She smiled and gripped his hand for a moment before helping him repack the lamp.

"My turn." Minerva said. She slid a large box over to Kathryn. He watched as she tore the paper from it with the delight of a child. Inside were six leather-bound journals and a collection of documents. Kathryn opened the first journal and scanned the first page.

"This is Great-Grandmother's research into the family history!" Kathryn said.

"Back to the thirteenth century, yes." Minerva said.

"It's wonderful Grandmother." He could see that she was near tears and he put his arm around her for a moment.

"She always wanted you to have them and I can't think of anyone who would appreciate them more." Minerva said. She handed him a large envelope.

"I hope you don't mind, but that's really for both of you." He took out tickets to a performance of Sleeping Beauty and a performance of Mozart's Magic Flute. "You've been so patient I thought you and Kathryn should have some time together, without a couple of old women hanging over your shoulders."

"Thank you Minerva." He was very glad to have some time alone with Kathryn. Much as he liked Minerva he had never been one to enjoy spending a great deal of time 'visiting'. Even though much of his time with Kathryn was spent apart from her in some way or another, the potential for closeness was always there. Here all that had been put on hold and it added to the stress of the situation.

"Thank you Grandmother." Kathryn said.

He gave Minerva a scarf similar to the one he had given Kathryn, only this one was a deep blue. Minerva thanked him and then said she was tired.

"But I haven't-" Kathryn started.

"Kathryn, I was up early today and I need to be up early tomorrow to make sure everything is ready. I really need to get some rest." She kissed Kathryn and thanked her again for the painting. She touched her cheek to his and took the scarf with her, leaving Kathryn shocked and a little confused. "Cocktails and presents start at seven, dinner is at eight, feel free to sleep in." She said over her shoulder as she was leaving.


	41. Platinum Poe

41. Platinum Poe

Even though the day had been filled with distractions, Kathryn was dying to know what he had gotten her. From what she could tell his routine hadn't changed, but that hardly mattered anymore. He might have shopped online. The object was less important than the fact that he was thinking about her. With her Grandmother's quick exit it made her wonder if he had gotten her anything at all. Kathryn got up and collected the wrapping paper before turning off several lamps. She settled next to him again and snuggled against his chest. He stroked her back and Kathryn sighed contentedly against him.

"That painting must have cost you a small fortune." He said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Kathryn was smiling, his fingers laced softly in her hair.

"Not as much as you might think." She smiled a little. "The appraisal was too low, no one in his family liked it and since I had such a good story we came to terms I could live with. Besides," She looked up at him a mischievous little grin on her lips. "It's rumored that I can be rather charming as well."

"Really?" One eyebrow rose. "And just how charming were you?"

"It was positively scandalous." Kathryn looked away, trying not to laugh. He gripped her chin lightly and turned her eyes back to his.

"I think I'd like to hear about your scandalous escapades." She could see the amusement around his eyes, and was very glad that she read him so well. Otherwise, she would have been a little scared.

"Well, he and I went out a couple of times, for lunch, in a brightly lit, crowded restaurant." Kathryn laughed and smiled up at him.

"I'm surprised you weren't in all the papers." He laughed and kissed her lips softly, she settled against him.

"Besides, it would have been worth ten times the price to see the look on her face." She closed her eyes and he stroked her back softly.

"And were you as charming with the owner of the lamp?" Now he was being serious. Kathryn looked up at him and tried not to tremble.

"I wasn't charming at all. The widow who owned it thought it was ugly and wasn't worth anything. I just paid the price she was asking. It isn't my fault if people don't know what they have." He kissed her lightly.

"You do have an incredible eye." He smiled slightly.

"Thank you." She smiled at him, deciding to deal the jealous implications later. Bringing it up right now would only ruin the mood and probably wouldn't solve anything.

"Hopefully, this will please that discerning eye." He handed her simple black velvet box, Kathryn felt herself blush deeply. She opened the box to find a platinum book on fine chain. The brushed, matte cover was made in the style of an old, leatherbound book. It was etched with scrollwork designs and accented with rose cut diamonds. The words Annabel Lee were engraved in the cover. "It opens." He said softly. Her fingers trembled a little as she opened the cover.

"'And this maiden she lived with no other thought," Kathryn could feel tears starting to fill her eyes. She turned the page, even though she knew the lines by heart. "Than to love and be loved by me." Kathryn felt tears starting to slide down her cheeks. She set the box carefully aside and hugged him tightly.

"I take it this is a positive reaction?" He held her tightly, she could hear the small smile in his voice.

"How did you remember? I mentioned the poem once, the first night we met." She clung to him. He laughed softly.

"You made a strong impression on me that night, my Kathryn." He stroked her back softly. "Do you like it?" She moved back a little and looked into his eyes.

"I love it." She spoke softly. "It's perfect, and the lines-" She looked away and started to cry again. He brushed her tears away gently and found her lips.

"Thank you." She whispered softly when his lips retreated slightly.

"You're welcome." His soft lips brushed hers as he spoke, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. He closed the box and slipped it back into his pocket before picking her up. Kathryn gasped and tightened her arm around his neck. "You still don't trust me not to drop you?" He smiled slightly.

"You still don't give me any warning." She laughed softly and relaxed in his arms, forgetting about the lights and everything else. He set her down and kissed her softly once they were alone behind a locked door.

"Get undressed." He said softly. She smiled a little and picked up her nightgown. "No. Undressed." He said a little more firmly, taking it from her hand. Kathryn blushed deeply and couldn't meet his eyes. She waited until his back was turned and then went into the bathroom. Kathryn undressed and tried to force herself to go out into the bedroom. She told herself that she had bathed with him, she slept naked with him every night, and he'd had his mouth and tongue in places that made her blush to think about, but she couldn't make herself to step into the room so exposed. Finally she emerged, holding towel loosely around her body. She was surprised to see softly glowing candles scattered around the room and him wearing lounging pajama bottoms. He looked at her and held his hand out to her. She took it and settled into his embrace.

"I'm sorry." She said softly.

He stroked her back. "Why does it bother you?"

"I don't know. I know that I don't need to hide from you." He pulled her down next to him on the bed, and Kathryn relaxed. "I just always feel so self-conscious when I think about you looking at me. Not as bad as I did at first, but it's still there." Her eyes were down. He held her, one hand stroking her hair.

"Why?" He asked. Kathryn shook her head a little.

"I can't explain it." She said. He stroked her side softly, each movement of his hand moving the towel away from her body. Kathryn made no move to stop him. "I know I shouldn't be ashamed."

He kissed her shoulder and she moved a little, letting him take the towel away. His eyes fixed on hers for a long moment, Kathryn felt her heart starting to pound. "You don't think you're beautiful enough." He said finally.

"I'm not. I'm plain, and-" He kissed her softly.

"The women in your grandmother's gallery, do you think they're beautiful?"

"Of course, but-"

"You could have sat for any one of those paintings. I don't know why you think you're less than other women, but it's a false belief." His fingers held her chin in place.

"Thank you." She said softly. "Did I ruin your mood?" He chuckled.

"No my Kathryn. I just forget sometimes how young you are." He kissed her softly and Kathryn felt herself relaxing against him. One finger stroked her bruised nipple softly and she bit back a little whimper.

"It's still painful." It wasn't a question. She looked down at his fingertip tracing the margins of the dark mark. In the bathroom she noticed it looked a little bigger, but the dull pain was no worse than it had been after waking up that evening.

"It's not bad." She was trembling a little, her eyes were down. He lifted her chin, his blue eyes direct. "Yes, it still hurts."

"Don't ever lie to me Kathryn, not even to protect my feelings." He kissed her softly.

"It's not your fault. Telling you it hurts makes it sound like blame."

"I don't hear it that way." He kissed her lightly again. "Lie on your stomach." His voice was soft, but Kathryn heard the command in it. She moved slowly, watching over her shoulder, uncertain what he wanted. Once she was settled he started working softly scented lotion into her skin. Kathryn trembled and relaxed.

--

Kathryn felt as if she was floating. He had spent hours just touching and massaging her. By the time his mouth began to move over her skin Kathryn realized that there was a slick wetness between her legs, even though he had touched none of the obvious places. When he began to let his fingers and lips brush her breasts or the front of her mound it made Kathryn practically tremble with need. She lost count of how many times he brought her over the edge before she begged him to stop.

He held her until she caught her breath and then he tied a silky scarf around her eyes. At first she felt as if she couldn't breathe and she struggled, near tears for a few minutes. His whispered reassurances and soft touches had been enough to help her relax again. Her reactions to his light touches seemed amplified after that, and he continued his teasing, making her need to bite back cries of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled away from her entirely. She felt his weight next to her on the bed, and she was sure she felt him watching her reactions. Kathryn blushed deeply and reached out for him. She felt him move over her and when he pressed inside her, her inner muscles clenched around him, almost sending her over the edge again.

Now she lay against him in a pleasure haze, her eyes still covered. His hands wandered softly over her back and anywhere they could reach. Slowly she raised her hand and pushed weakly at the blindfold. He untied it and set it aside. Kathryn kissed his chest softly and fell into a deeply satisfied sleep.

--

LaCroix looked down at her and smiled slightly, his fingers twined in her hair. It didn't matter how many times he had her, it didn't matter how many times he tasted her blood, the innocent flavor was still in it. What was more, she was HIS innocent, that was in her blood too. Holding her while she recovered from her pleasure had been his plan since he saw the pendant. It was a custom piece of course and a very clever contrivance on the part of a very clever jeweler.

Henri had come to immortality as an old man. It was an unusual thing, but not unheard of. Before, he had been a skilled jeweler on the verge of retirement. After, the improvement in his vision had let him continue his work with impressive results. The wizened little man with unruly white hair was one of the few in the community that LaCroix found genuinely endearing. Henri kept himself to himself, rarely leaving the house he worked out of, but, since he sold exclusively to other immortals he knew every bit of gossip almost before LaCroix did.

"So, you are in love with this one." Henri said in French as he offered LaCroix a chair. He knew English, but disliked speaking it, saying it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"What makes you say that?" LaCroix responded in kind as he sat, only slightly surprised the jeweler had even heard of Kathryn. The man gave him a flat look, as if the question was ridiculous.

"You've looked through my entire collection and chosen the most beautiful piece I have, and yet you still look like something is missing. How many pieces have you bought from me over the centuries?" Henri was sketching as he spoke.

"I don't recall." LaCroix had tried to get a look at what the man was drawing, but Henri was kept the pad carefully tilted away from his customer's view.

"Neither do I. Living forever hasn't fixed my old memory. I do remember that while they have all been the best quality because you a man of taste, they haven't been very personal. This is personal." He held up the first sketch of the pendant. "She's a writer, is she not?" A little smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"One day you'll have to tell me where you get your information." He hadn't been able to suppress a small smile.

"I am old." He shrugged. "Beyond having my own romantic adventures. The best I can do is live vicariously through others. Now, have something to drink with me while we bring this little object up to your exacting standards and I can tell my customers that I shared an appetizer with the famous and fearsome Lucien LaCroix." It took until the piece was created for him to decide what to have engraved in it. Impressive as it was, the wrong words would have ruined it.

After he saw it finished he knew it was perfect, but it wasn't quite enough. The addition of the piece he had found for her to wear to the party might have overshadowed the pendant and would have ruined his other surprise. What he wanted was to express the sentiments of the phrase, this seemed the perfect way. She was always solicitous to his needs and desires, even if she was uncertain or uncomfortable. Focusing on her pleasure for an evening seemed the perfect complement to the gift. He hadn't anticipated that she might not know how to accept his ministrations. Perhaps he had waited too long. He stroked her back softly and Kathryn sighed contentedly in her sleep.

He hadn't anticipated her reaction to the blindfold either. That hadn't been part of the plan, but seeing her laying there limp and trembling made him want to add to her pleasure. He had thought she might be nervous, but seeing her so frightened and gasping for breath were beyond what he had imagined. In that moment he had thought only of calming her, now he wondered if it was connected to her dream. He had mentioned darkness and her face being covered. She shifted slightly, and looked up at him. He was satisfied to realize her eyes were still a bit unfocused.

"Comfortable, my Kathryn?" He tightened his arm around her.

"Maybe a little cold." Her voice was soft, her body limp with relaxation. He got up and pulled the covers back. He watched her get in and then settled with her again.

"Better?" He whispered, once he had the covers wrapped around her and he was settled behind her.

"Much, thank you." She relaxed back into him, his arms wrapped possessively around her. At that moment LaCroix had an almost irresistible urge to bring her across. She belonged to him. She knew it deep down even if she hadn't admitted it to herself. The risks of leaving her mortal seemed so great at that moment. Then he looked down at her profile. She trusted him completely, to simply take her would terrify her and shatter that trust. The urge was still overwhelming. He got up and retreated into the small bathroom to calm himself. It was a mean little space, but it would suit his purposes.

--

Kathryn woke up from her light doze in time to hear the bathroom door close quietly. She knew there was something wrong, but she had no idea what. Her knees still trembled as she got up and blew out the candles, she knew he would probably do it himself, but right at that moment it was impossible for her to be still. She turned on the small nightlight and got into bed, trying to relax.

Half an hour later she was about to check on him when he came out. He looked slightly surprised to see her awake. Kathryn tried to cover her concern.

"Did I wake you?" He asked. Kathryn moved over and snuggled next to him again.

"I felt you leave." He held her close again. Kathryn recognized the way he held her as being afraid that she would leave.

"I'll try to be more careful next time." He kissed the top of her head softly.

"It's alright. I'm just glad you're back again." She brushed her lips over his jaw. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"What would be wrong, my Kathryn?" He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I don't know, I guess today has been so emotional, maybe I'm projecting." His lips were so soft against hers, his tongue feathering lightly over lips. His hands stroked hungrily over her back and bottom. Kathryn blushed a little and relaxed against him.

"Let's go home tomorrow." She said after a moment's silence.

"I don't know that even I could make those arrangements. Why do you want to leave?" He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, she could see his concern.

"Everything just feels so different here. I think maybe thinking about the family meeting you has me nervous." She saw his eyes widen slightly.

"Different how?" She could tell she had set him on edge with the statement.

"How I feel about you isn't different. I don't know, I think I'm just not used to caring what other people think of those feelings." His expression relaxed again and he held her close.

"And you think I will shock the rest of your family?" He smiled slightly. "I promise not to begin chewing on any large pieces of furniture while they're here." Kathryn laughed softly.

"That's not what I mean." She laughed softly and pressed closer.

"So what is it that you believe will happen?" His fingernails traced lightly over her back.

"I think you'll be asked some very rude, thoughtless questions and so will I. I think the ones who are nervous around you will try to convince me I'm making a terrible mistake and the ones who are drawn to you will just want to be near you. I know it's selfish but I'm not used to being the center of attention." Kathryn relaxed and let him move her body. One hand grasped her uninjured breast possessively as he lay behind her.

"It's a few hours, my Kathryn. You're mine now, you'll be mine when it's over." She reached over and turned out the light and then settled back into his chest again. Kathryn knew it should bother her the way he was so possessive sometimes. It did, in some ways. In some ways it felt completely natural. She was too tired and too satisfied to worry about it, now. She was his, for tonight, that was good enough.


	42. Family

42. Family

Kathryn turned to the left and then to the right as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. The plum suit she and her grandmother had picked out looked much better than the jumper, and the full skirt would give her enough mobility to play with the girls. She took off the jacket and tried again to fasten the pendant around her neck. For some reason the clasp was simply not cooperating. She cursed under her breath when she just about got it. If she hadn't loved the pendant so much she would have simply worn her pearls. She tried again and again the clasp refused to catch only this time the pendant slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a dull thump. Kathryn swore more loudly this time as she bent over to pick it up.

"Kathryn?" She hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom and she blushed deeply.

"Sorry." She said, unable to meet his eyes. He took the necklace from her hands and motioned for her to turn around. She did and he clasped it without a moment's trouble. That only made her feel worse. He held her jacket out for her and Kathryn put her arms in obediently, she buttoned it and turned to face him.

"Now you don't look like the rough sort you sounded like a moment ago." She heard an edge of disapproval in his voice but his lips were soft as they brushed against her forehead.

"I guess I'm a little tense." He stroked her cheek softly and then held her close.

"That's no reason to sound common." Kathryn was blushing deeply, even though his voice was soft. She still didn't quite understand why his opinion mattered so much to her on a matter as small as a few off-color words. Anyone else she would have told to live with it. He lifted her chin. "It looks beautiful on you." He said softly.

"You have wonderful taste in jewelry." Kathryn smiled shyly.

"I have wonderful taste in everything." Kathryn smiled a little, but she knew that he was perfectly serious. He was probably the most conceited man she had ever met in some ways. "Especially in women." And then he said something like that, and the rest went out the window. Kathryn kissed him softly and rested against his chest for a few moments.

--

LaCroix went out as soon as the sun set and returned before any of Minerva's guests started arriving. They were as she had described them. Her sons David and Michael and their wives arrived first. The men were consumed by business, the women were somewhat neglected. The two women chatted amiably with Kathryn and Minerva about charity events and fashion and whose daughter was coming out, getting married or having babies. He noticed that Kathryn would blanch slightly at the mention of babies and he wondered if she felt the urge to motherhood. He could give her almost any object she wanted in the world, he could give her immortality, but he couldn't quicken life in her womb. In a way, that saddened him and that was an unfamiliar feeling for him. One of her aunts noticed Kathryn's discomfort and she changed the topic to some bit of gossip she had heard somewhere or other. It amazed him how the light conversation of women hadn't changed in centuries.

The men claimed to be eager for his views on politics, current events and to know what his business interests were. They couched it as curiosity, but it was obvious they were appraising him. He was surprised and somewhat appalled when David began speaking freely about Kathryn's financial affairs. He wondered if she knew that he felt so free to discuss her private matters with perfect strangers and he decided to tell her later. Michael did something with computers that he didn't understand. LaCroix was quite comfortable using technology, but he had no desire to know how or why it worked.

Harold and Jayne arrived next. Jayne was one of those pinched women who seemed perpetually displeased. She looked as if she was bored with the whole affair as soon as she walked in and she left her husband to deal with the children. The two little girls ran to Kathryn as soon as their coats were taken off and she scooped them up, one on each hip.

"You two are getting too big for me to pick you up this way." She laughed and hugged the two identical children close. Minerva introduced him to the adults.

"Tell us a story." One said of the little girls said to Kathryn.

"Can we have our presents now?" The other asked. Kathryn shook her head and kissed first one, then the other.

"We have to wait for everyone to get here before we can have presents or stories. Don't you think you ought to say hello to Gramma? She'll be awfully glad to see you." Kathryn put the children down and they ran over to Minerva and she bent down to their level to hug and kiss each of them. Finally one of them looked up at him. Her dark blue eyes were as wide and trusting as Kathryn's were.

"Who are you?" She asked, looking up at him.

"I'm Lucien." He said, keeping his distance. Even before his conversion children were usually afraid of him. When his own children were young there were always others around to care for them. Since his conversion the only child he had dealt with was Divia, and even in the beginning she could hardly be considered an ordinary child.

"I'm Allie and this is my LITTLE sister Molly." She said very seriously and without the slightest hint of fear. "Are you going to marry Katie, cause she's our favorite cousin." He looked over at Kathryn, who turned crimson.

"Allie, we don't ask our guests those kinds of questions." Minerva said, taking the girls by the hand.

"Why not?" Allie asked, sounding frustrated that she wasn't going to get an answer. He imagined Kathryn sounded the same when she was a child.

"Because it isn't polite to ask strangers personal questions. Come and see what Santa left for you in your stockings." Minerva led them away.

"I'm sorry." Kathryn said softly. He laughed and stroked her blushing cheek. Marriage wasn't a concept that immortals embraced. The bond between sire and child was stronger than any religious or civil contract anyway. She wouldn't be his because of a simple promise; she would be his by blood.

"They're children." He said, smiling into his eyes. Kathryn's cousins arrived, each bringing a date. Minerva had been right about them providing entertainment. Amanda brought a man called George who easily old enough to be her father. Sarah brought someone who was studying to be a minister. Michael Junior brought a girl dressed in skirt that was too short and an ill-fitting old sweater. The prevailing opinion was that she was a prostitute, but he doubted that. The girl looked far too uncomfortable, the boy was completely oblivious though.

Gifts were exchanged next, and he noticed how right Kathryn had been about these being ordinary gifts. It also struck him how well the gifts she gave suited their recipients, but the ones she received seemed more suited to a stranger than a member of the family. The one exception was a simple silver bracelet from Minerva with the words 'Well-behaved women rarely make history' engraved on it.

Jayne made it known that she would be exchanging everything the next day and LaCroix wondered why Harold, who seemed embarrassed by her behavior, allowed it. The girls tossed aside their toys and new clothes for the books Kathryn gave them. Roman myths for Allie, Greek myths for Molly. Both were beautifully illustrated and Kathryn promised them a story after dinner if they behaved themselves during the meal.

"Must you encourage her?" He asked Minerva quietly as they walked in to dinner, a little smile on his lips.

"Somehow I think you'll be able to manage." She laughed softly.

She was right about the questions, though she was much better at deflecting them than she gave herself credit for. The one thing she was not able to deflect was Jayne's imperious orders.

"What are you doing, Katie?" She asked when they sat down to dinner. "You have to sit with the girls."

"Jayne, I can-" Harold started.

"Don't be stupid Harold." She snapped. The rest of the party tried their best to appear to be occupied in conversation, even though the woman was clearly making a spectacle of herself. "Katie always does it and she will this time too. Won't you dear."

"Of course, Jayne." She said softly and walked away from him with her eyes down.

"AUNT Jayne." He couldn't believe that the woman was actually looking down at Kathryn.

"Aunt Jayne." Kathryn said, moving down to where the girls were seated. LaCroix was struck by the familiarity of the scene and he was reluctant to let her go. Still, he could hardly indulge his instincts in front of the gathered relatives. He spent the rest of the meal observing Kathryn and half listening to the others chat about this or that. He learned Harold had always been rather shiftless, and now he was on to some new business venture that sounded perfectly ridiculous to LaCroix. Still, dinner was not the time to tell a man he hardly knew that he was coming off as a fool.

Michael the Younger admired Kathryn's separation from the stuffy mores of society, but he didn't have the grace to carry it off as she did. He almost felt sorry for the girl he brought, Candace was her name. He had told her nothing about what the gathering would be like, not had he told her that she would look so out of place.

Matthew, the young minister in training, reminded him of Nicholas in some ways. He was idealistic and absolutely certain that he was in the right on all of his stances. From the reactions of her parents and the rest of the family it was apparent that he was not the sort she usually chose. He was, however, the sort that appealed to LaCroix. There was always something enticing about that which one couldn't have. He knew, without a doubt that if he were of a mind to make advances, this young man would refuse them. At first. It was a pleasant fantasy, when they got back perhaps he would find his own young minister. As exciting and passionate as Kathryn was, there were things she would never be able to provide him with.

George seemed inordinately interested in Kathryn and that clearly bothered Amanda, though for some reason she was angry at Kathryn, not George. LaCroix was not naïve, it was clear she had no deep feelings for the man, but she did seem very interested in getting her father's attention. Attention that seemed too costly for David to give. He followed his link with Kathryn until he could hear her conversation.

"So, tell me what you do, besides sit around and look gorgeous." He asked. LaCroix was glad he was on the other side of the table from her. Jealousy was not an entirely new feeling for him, but it had been a very long time since he felt it so strongly. He could tell that it bothered her as well, to this point though she hadn't mentioned it. He knew it was something he would have to control before he brought her across, but at that moment all he could think of was coming between her and this man. From this distance though, there was nothing he could do.

"I write." She was being polite, but concentrating on the children.

"Well that doesn't tell me much." He laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't be embarrassed Hon, you can tell me if you write romance novels, I promise not to tell." She simply smiled.

"I don't write romance novels." He was reminded of the first night that he met her. He concentrated and could hear her heart beating faster, but her exterior was as calm as ever.

"You're being awfully secretive." He looked at her and smiled an oily smile. "Now let me see, fiesty little firecracker like you, I bet you write those, shall we say, adult stories." He was grinning now and LaCroix didn't like the way his eyes slid over her.

"You seem to want to endow me with qualities I just don't have." He noticed the natural way she took care of the girls too. Giving them what they needed almost before they asked. "I write perfectly dull little treatises on myth and folklore." That seemed to stop him for a moment.

"What culture?" Matthew asked.

"A number of different cultures actually. So many peoples had similar archetypes and I've found it interesting to trace them back through time." She responded smoothly. It was a description he would never have thought of for her work, but the more he thought about it, he realized how well it fit her understanding of her subject matter.

"Coffee and dessert in the sitting room." Bridey announced.

The girls ran ahead into the sitting room, giggling and chasing after each other. It wasn't at all surprising considering the fact that they had just sat so quietly for so long.

"Katie." Jayne called.

"Coming Aunt Jayne." Kathryn said, moving past him.

"Kathryn, you're not her slave." He held her arm. It was one thing for her to be subordinate to him, that was the natural order of things. It was quite another to see her ordered around by a woman who was less than no one.

"I know that, but I promised the girls a story anyway." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek softly. "It'll only be another hour or two." He let her go reluctantly and followed her into the sitting room again. Bridey had picked up the wrapping papers and ribbons and there were cookies, slices of pie and coffee set out.

He watched Kathryn help the girls select one cookie each and then she took them into the small TV room, carrying their books. LaCroix stayed in the sitting room for a few minutes, long enough to see that everyone was engaged in their own conversations or arguments. Then he slipped across the hall, through the dining room and into the doorway of Minerva's small office. The shadows were the perfect place to observe her; even if she looked in his direction she wouldn't notice him.

She sat on the floor with them, her shoes off, her back against the sofa. One child sat on either side of her and he could tell that as much as she disliked Jayne, she loved these children. The first thing he heard was the controversy over whether or not Hades was mean for taking Persephone. It surprised him that children so young would know the story, but knowing Kathryn she had probably been telling them myths since they were born. He had to suppress a laugh when she told them her take on it.

"I don't think Hades was mean or scary. I think he was just shy."

"Shy?" Allie asked.

"Yes. The way I see it, Hades was VERY busy, ruling over the whole underworld. In the rest of the world there were all kinds of gods and goddesses, but he had to do everything himself. That means he couldn't go to any of the great parties that Persephone went to. So, when it came time to talk to her, he didn't know what to say and he did something not very nice. I think that once Persephone got to know him though, she forgave him. But, since you both know that one so well, I thought maybe we could have a different one." He noticed how the two of them looked at her with the same rapt attention. It struck him that the soft lighting in the room caught reddish highlights in their dark blond hair and for a moment he allowed himself to fantasize that these were his children, born to Kathryn. He crushed the thought when it became too painful and focused on how Kathryn seemed more at ease than she had all evening. "I thought maybe I would tell you the story of a set of twins, almost like you."

"Almost?" Molly asked. Strange how easily he could tell them apart when he had known them for only a short time.

"Well these twins were boys." All three wrinkled their noses and LaCroix had to suppress a laugh. "But they were very special boys because they founded what would become the Roman Empire."

He was smiling a little as he listened to her tell the story of Romulus and Remus in terms small children could understand. As he watched, he allowed himself to get lost in the familiarity and warmth of the scene in front of him.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Minerva said softly. He hadn't noticed her approach and that was something very unusual about that. She wasn't looking at him though, she was watching Kathryn.

"Yes." He said softly.

"Kathryn is my favorite grandchild, there's no secret about that, but those two are a very close second." She said in a whisper as well.

"And will they end up in the family gallery one day?" He asked.

"Not in that gallery I'm afraid." He noticed the sadness in her voice as she spoke. "Kathryn was the last one, the last recent one I should say."

"Why is that?" He sensed she was trying to tell him something and he didn't like to make assumptions about what that something was. She was silent and when he glanced down at her he found her eyes fixed on him. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Minerva-"

"I should be getting back to my guests. They'll wonder where I've gone off to." She turned and walked back into the office. He followed and grasped her arm lightly. Minerva turned to face him again, but there was no fear in her eyes.

"I was debating whether to give this to you or to Kathryn." Minerva took several carefully persevered sheets of parchment out of a locked drawer.

"Why would there be a debate?" He asked, still assessing the situation.

"Because Kathryn doesn't read French, and even if she did she would just regard this as an interesting document written by our first traceable ancestor. It'll make sense to you." She slid the sheets across the desk. LaCroix scanned the document quickly.

"I don't see what this has to-" He started.

"It was written by Fleur de Brabant." LaCroix sat down slowly in the one available chair. If he had been mortal the color would have drained from his face. He knew he should say something, anything to deflect further questions. The look on Minerva's face told him that anything he said would have a hollow ring to it. "If you miss people leaving I'll just say you felt a little unwell." Minerva left the key on the desk and left quietly.

LaCroix was almost hesitant to read the letter. It was addressed to a daughter and spoke of the girl's upcoming marriage. Mixed in with the small details of dress and ceremony that had always accompanied weddings was a section that talked about her own great love. In detail, the brief time he had spent with her was recounted, as well as why they parted. Though she couched it in metaphor, she clearly remembered who and what he was in spite of best efforts to remove those memories. The rest of the letter was little bits of advice from mother to daughter about how to share a marital home and bed with a man one didn't love.

For the first time since Nicholas's final moments his eyes filled with tears. He set the pages aside and carefully locked them away again. The movement made it easier to get control again and he reminded himself that there would be time to question Minerva further. If an opportunity didn't present itself he would make one.


	43. To Follow You

43. To Follow you

The guests left soon after he rejoined the group. No one made comment about him being gone, but that didn't really surprise him. They had all been very involved in their own conversations when he left and while he had been polite he was not one to be the center of attention. He watched Kathryn and Minerva as they picked up napkins and glasses.

"So when is Sarah due?" Kathryn asked casually. LaCroix found himself watching her move, listening to the intonations in her voice.

"Due?" Minerva asked.

"Oh come on, you didn't notice?" Kathryn smiled a little and stacked several coffee cups on a tray. Minerva stopped what she was doing and thought for a moment. Slowly, a smile spread across her lips.

"And you say you aren't intuitive." Minerva said, dialing the phone quickly. He brought several plates over to Kathryn's tray. She stood on her toes and kissed him, LaCroix slid his arms around her waist for a moment.

"Sarah, it's your grandmother. Why didn't you tell me?" Minerva said, her back to them. He took the opportunity to hold Kathryn close and she snuggled against him. In that moment, the letter was less important than the woman in his arms.

"Well I imagine he would be. What did you say?" Minerva's back was still turned. Kathryn's head rested against his chest.

"Are you alright?" She whispered.

"Of course. Why?" He asked, her arms tightened around him.

"Are you certain he's right for you? He's very different than your other relationships." Minerva seemed to be giving them privacy and LaCroix took full advantage.

"Because you've been looking at me differently since people started leaving." She murmured, her eyes closed.

"I've never seen how graceful you are in a crowd, and I realize that I'm a very fortunate man." A soft blush colored her cheeks.

"Have you set a date yet?" Minerva asked. Kathryn wasn't paying attention, the tension was leaving her body. As many times as he felt it, he still enjoyed the sensation of her relaxing against him.

"I'm the lucky one. You didn't have to do this." She murmured. He rubbed the back of her neck softly. Her muscles tended to knot there and she shivered softly. "I should take these things in to Bridey, she'll wonder what's taking so long."

LaCroix lifted her chin and kissed her softly, his lips lingering softly on hers for a moment before he released her.

"Well you should have the wedding here then, you know how beautiful the yard is in the evening at that time of year." Minerva turned around as Kathryn picked up the tray. "Well, think about it and let me know."

LaCroix sat down and when Kathryn returned Minerva sent her upstairs to get changed. When Kathryn was gone, he looked at Minerva.

"You've known from the beginning." He said simply.

"Since she mentioned your name, yes." Minerva sat across from him. Her heart was pounding.

"So you made accommodations for my needs under the pretext of living within Kathryn's schedule." He looked at her curiously. Clearly if the letter had been passed through so many generations, his reappearance was not unexpected. "It doesn't bother you?"

"This is a concept my family has lived with for a very long time." She tried to manage a smile. "I don't pretend to understand it. I just know that when Kathryn looks at you, anyone with eyes can see how much she loves you. The rest matters less to me than her happiness."

"Have you told her?" He asked, his body still, uncertain how he was going to proceed.

"Of course not, that's not my place." She was telling the truth, and LaCroix began to relax.

"What is your place?" His voice was still guarded and bordered on cold.

"I don't know." She looked older in that moment, and for the first time since he arrived that steady gaze was uncertain. "It used to be to support Octavia. Then she died and I had to raise Kathryn. Now that she's found you, I'm not certain where I fit in anymore."

LaCroix considered this carefully. Severing ties with family was usually difficult, but somehow that seemed wrong in this instance. The fact that she knew was a complication that he hadn't decided how to deal with yet.

"Kathryn needs you." He said simply, he heard Kathryn coming out of their room. "The rest we'll discuss later."

--

Kathryn was jarred awake by her cell phone. It was Corey's ringtone and as she answered she wondered why she hadn't turned it off.

"Corey, you had better be at death's door." Kathryn mumbled. He growled softly and Kathryn moved to get up. His arm held her tightly in place.

"Well good morning to you too." She said.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Just after eleven, you have to help me." Kathryn could tell that Corey was excited about something.

"Are you in the hospital?" She asked.

"No, but-"

"Are you in jail?"

"Well, no but-"

"Then you don't need my help right at this moment." Kathryn said. "If you want to talk later tonight, I'll call you-"

"I met a guy." Corey said.

"Well that's hardly front page news." Kathryn said, his hand was massaging her unbruised breast. His touch was soft, but she could tell he was annoyed. She was too.

"I know, I know. But this is a NICE guy. My dad hired him a few months ago and he wants me to go to C.W.'s party with him. I don't have anything to wear and I don't even know what to buy. You HAVE to help me." Corey was excited, and deep down, in some part of her mind that was not upset with being awakened from a sound sleep, Kathryn was excited for her. All of her mind was awake enough to notice the shift in the way she talked about her father.

"That sounds great, I'll call you tonight and we can go shopping tomorrow." Corey sounded dejected but said her goodbyes. Kathryn turned the phone off and curled up against his chest again.

"Sorry." Kathryn murmured. His arms tightened around her and his lips found the top of her shoulder. She gripped him tighter and whimpered softly when his teeth scraped over her skin. She tensed, he stroked her back and his lips moved gently. In seconds she remembered nothing but that warm, safe feeling.

--

Kathryn helped Corey pick out a simple but flattering champagne colored strapless gown with just enough beading on the bodice to give it some sparkle. With any luck, Corey would mind her manners and sparkle too. She got back to her grandmother's later than she planned though and she had to hurry to get ready. Lucien wasn't happy with her, but after they were seated his anger faded. Once again, he had arranged private seating for them, but that was no longer a surprise. Kathryn had heard music from the Magic Flute, but she had never seen it. The performance was a pure delight and she was sorry for the pause of intermission. When the houselights came up she excused herself.

"That's a lovely shade of lipstick." A woman said. Kathryn hadn't notice her there when she entered the ladies' room, but there was something vaguely familiar about her long dark hair and curvaceous figure. "What color is it?" She asked. The little smile on her lips unsettled Kathryn somehow.

"I'm not sure." She took the tube out of her bag again and looked at the bottom. "Night Red Rose." She read.

"It suits you." The woman moved closer. Kathryn noted that the woman's heavily sequined dress seemed rather garish in comparison to most others she had see that evening, and it bared more cleavage. "You're Kathryn Paige, aren't you?"

"Yes." Kathryn's voice was guarded and she backed away a bit. The woman smiled benignly.

"Don't look so frightened, dear. I'm a client of your father's, he has a picture of you in his office." Her smile reminded Kathryn of Lucien's in that she revealed only the barest hint of her teeth.

"Of course." Kathryn laughed and felt silly for being so nervous. Still the fact that she and this woman were the only ones in this part of the restroom seemed unusual. "I'm sorry, I haven't met many of his clients."

"I'm Elsbeth St. Martin." She extended her hand and Kathryn took it. She was surprised by the woman's grip and the fact that she held on.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Kathryn still felt inexplicably nervous.

"Your father talks about you often." Elsbeth's dark eyes were intense, Kathryn began to subtly try and remove her hand.

"Does he? That makes me curious what he could possibly have to say." She pulled harder.

"Just little things from time to time, like the fact that you write." Elsbeth's tongue caressed her full lips. "I write a bit myself you know."

"Are you published?" Kathryn could feel her heart beating faster and the blood rushed in her ears. She pulled more firmly on her hand.

"Not yet. It's mostly a hobby, but I always enjoy talking to others with similar interests. We should get together some evening, and have a drink." Several women came in and shattered the moment. Elsbeth released her hand and Kathryn felt like she could breathe again.

"I'm afraid I'm only in town for a few days and my time is committed. It was a pleasure to meet you though, if you'll excuse me my companion will wonder where I am." Kathryn walked out of the restroom quickly and returned to her seat. At first he looked upset with her for being gone so long, then that upset quickly changed to a look of concern.

"Are you ill?" He took her hand when she sat.

"No, I think I'm just a little tired." Kathryn rested her head against his shoulder for the rest of the performance.

The encounter with Elsbeth St. Martin lingered on Kathryn's mind, although the woman's name flew out of her head almost immediately. Why the rest was so memorable she couldn't say precisely. The woman hadn't done anything particularly strange, but Kathryn had learned that when she had a bad feeling about someone there was probably a good reason. When she and Lucien went to Sleeping Beauty Kathryn found herself scanning the crowd for her. After only a few minutes, a similar flashy gown with a plunging neckline caught her eye.

"Are you looking for someone?" He asked when he caught her staring.

"No, I thought I saw someone I knew from school, but it's not her." Kathryn wasn't even sure why she lied, but as soon as the words were out she knew that he could tell she wasn't being honest. He didn't push the point and Kathryn remained with him during intermission.

As they were leaving the woman caught her eye again and this time she thought she saw Lucien react as well. His eyebrows drew together almost imperceptibly and his light blue eyes seemed to darken for a heartbeat. Someone who didn't know him as well wouldn't have noticed. In the car, Kathryn considered asking him about the woman, but he held her hand more tightly than usual and she was sure she noticed some worry around his eyes. Kathryn rested against his shoulder and remained silent.

"Is that you, Kathryn?" Minerva called from the sitting room. Kathryn couldn't help but smile a little. There was no one else that would be coming in at that hour. He kissed her temple lightly.

"Yes it is." Kathryn held onto his hand and stepped out of her shoes. She stood on tiptoe, kissed him softly and joined the older woman in sitting room.

"So, how was it?" She set her needlepoint aside and accepted Kathryn's kiss on the cheek.

"Beautiful." She sat with her legs drawn up under her.

"The strings were a bit off in several places, I thought." He sat down next to her.

"You've got a better ear for that than I do." She smiled at him. "I get too wrapped up in the spectacle of it to really listen."

"The dancing more than made up for it." Kathryn wasn't sure if he was serious about that last remark, but it was polite.

"Oh your package arrived this evening Kathryn. I put it in your room." Minerva had picked up the needlepoint again. It was a perfectly hideous flower arrangement that Kathryn knew Minerva intended to give to Mira for her birthday. It was part of the tradition of contempt between the two women.

"What package?" Kathryn asked.

"The one from Millie's. I thought you stopped there when you were shopping with Corrina the other day." Minerva looked as confused as Kathryn. Millie's Armoire was Kathryn's favorite lingerie shop and she usually bought something while she was home. This time she just hadn't gotten there yet.

"No, Corey had something that suited the dress and we were already late." Kathryn retrieved the flat box from the bedroom and took the lid off as she trotted down the stairs. In the sitting room she pulled aside the tissue paper and and was shocked to find fine quality red lace made into the trashiest g-string and peek-a-boo bra she had ever seen. Her eyes widened and color bloomed in her cheeks. She put the lid back on the box quickly. "This is a mistake, or someone's idea of a bad joke. I'll take it back in the morning."

Lucien reached for the box, and after hesitating Kathryn handed it to him. One eyebrow twitched as he looked at the contents.

"I didn't think Millie's sold those kinds of things." Minerva had gotten up and was looking over his shoulder.

"Could this be Miss James's crass idea of a thank you gift?" His voice was even, but Kathryn could tell that he was angry.

"There's a note." Minerva plucked the single red-bordered white sheet out of the tissue. "' For Inspiration. E.'. That's a rather cryptic message."

"It's creepy if you ask me." Kathryn said, unable to look at the scraps of lace in their tissue paper nest.

Kathryn relaxed against his chest, her eyes closed. It was her favorite part of the day, these few minutes when she felt his cool skin melting her warmth. No more had been said about the strange 'gift', but Kathryn was certain that he hadn't forgotten it. He never forgot anything. Kathryn wasn't certain that she wanted to let it hang in the air around them anymore. His fingertips lightly rubbed the small depressions just over her kidneys and a soft, purring sigh slipped from between her lips. His soft chuckle made her arch against him. Her lips grazed the front of his chest and his hand moved lower, to cup her bottom.

"I don't know anything about the package." She spoke softly, the rest of the house didn't need to hear their conversation.

"I know that." He moved her carefully so that they were facing each other, he laced his fingers with hers. His eyes held hers and Kathryn let them draw her in. "Do you know anyone with that initial?"

"A step-cousin called Edwin, but I only met him once and that was several years ago." Kathryn felt as if her lips were barely moving, and she wondered how her voice was so clear. "And there was that woman I met at the opera, her name started with an E, but we barely said hello."

"What woman is this?" His voice lulled her, she barely felt the bed beneath her.

"I don't know, she said she knew Daddy. A lot of people do, so I wasn't too surprised."

"Do you remember her name?" His fingers tightened slightly.

"El-something. It was ordinary, but not." She felt as if she were swimming through thick fluid as she searched for the answer. "Like Elizabeth, but I can't remember."

"Yes you can." His voice sent a soft vibration through her, but there was nothing frightening in it. Kathryn took several deep breaths.

"Elsbeth." Her voice trembled and he stroked her cheek softly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she was just someone who asked me about my lipstick. If I told you about everyone who spoke to me in a public place that's all we would ever talk about." Kathryn was starting to squirm. He pulled her against his chest again.

"It's alright, my Kathryn." The swimming feeling left her but the comfort and deep relaxation remained.


	44. Simple Plan

44. Simple Plan

Kathryn seemed deeply asleep, but the light kiss he placed on the nape of her neck roused her more than he expected. LaCroix told himself that it would wound her passion if he refused her, but as he lay there afterward, his lips lightly pressed to the small oozing wound next to her nipple, he admitted to himself that he treasured these moments with her even more than he treasured his need for revenge. Her hand rested lightly on the back of his head and even after the small wound had stopped oozing he left his head against her breast. His fingers lightly caressed her lower stomach. He listened to her heartbeat, and when she was close to sleep he moved away from her carefully. The shock of the letter had worn off in the intervening days. Kathryn may have been in Fleur's line, but in moments like this she was simply his Kathryn.

She gave a plaintive little whimper and he recognized it as the sound she made just before she fell asleep, but didn't want to be without him in those final moments. He brushed his lips over hers and cradled her until she fell asleep again. He covered her carefully and held her consciousness there as he washed and dressed for the second time, selecting clothing that hadn't recently spent time on the floor. Kathryn lay on her side, her knees drawn up, she sighed comfortably in her sleep. He restrained himself from kissing her again said good evening to Minerva and headed out into the darkness.

* * *

LaCroix stood in a deep shadow across the street from Elsbeth's brothel for the second night. Just like the night before, he watched men and a few women - mostly mortal - enter. It surprised him that he saw very few of these customers leaving. Elsbeth was many things, but she was not stupid. He knew all of these people weren't killed in the name of feeding, but it surprised him that she would run an establishment that customers would want to remain in once their business was concluded. Perhaps the centuries had given her a kind of mercenary wisdom she lacked previously. He glanced at his watch and knew he should be getting back, something kept him there though. Presently he saw the reason for his hesitation. The young, nervous-looking immortal who guided him to Elsbeth that first night was crossing the street, and heading directly for him.

LaCroix watched her with an appraising eye. The girl was probably less than eighteen mortal years, though that had become increasingly harder to tell. She crossed the street in the cold without a coat. Even though his kind were not susceptible to frostbite they were susceptible to questions. It seemed that this one had no one to teach her the finer points of living in a mortal world.

"M-Mr. LaCroix?" Her voice quivered as she approached him. Even without instruction the young understand the power of an ancient.

"Come closer." He backed down a nearby alley and watched as she followed nervously. She was too frightened to try to hurt him, but he hadn't seen empires rise and fall by taking unnecessary chances. When they were both thoroughly cloaked in shadow he stopped and waited in silence. "Are you under the impression that I have all night?" His words seemed to hang in the thick stench of the alley, and they made the girl jump. For a moment he was thought she might run away, without telling him why she had sought him out in the first place.

"Elsbeth thinks she got away with following Miss Paige." She blurted out. LaCroix's eyes narrowed.

"What is that to you?" His voice was still frosty and carefully controlled, but she had piqued his curiosity.

"Nothing in itself." Her eyes were down and she was trembling. He knew the cold wasn't affecting her, but rarely did he reduce anyone to trembling with so few words.

"Then why come out here to tell me?" His tone was softer, something in the way she held herself reminded LaCroix of Kathryn.

"Because I hate her." She lifted her eyes and the amber glow that flashed there revealed her anger. "I can't hurt her any other way. Maybe I can't hurt her this way either, but at least I know I tried." Her vehemence surprised LaCroix. He kept the emotion off of his face.

"Isn't she the one who made you?" He walked around her, appraising.

"Yes, but-"

"And you would betray her?" She was trying to be still, but not succeeding. That didn't surprise him.

"I never wanted this." He caught the flash of her eyes again and then she did her best to keep her face hidden.

"The sun will be up in a little more than twelve hours." His voice was calm. "Or perhaps you would like my assistance?"

"That's not what I mean." She responded quickly.

"Then maybe you should be more clear about what you mean." There was a practiced edge in his voice now. Certain people could get vast amounts of information with smiles and soft words, he found vague threats were usually more effective. His heels hit the pavement rhythmically as he moved.

"That part's not so bad. It's weird, but I'm getting used to it." She said quietly. "I didn't want to be beaten, or starved. I never asked to be sold to disgusting old men. If I wanted all that I would have stayed with my mother and stepfather." She was trying hard not to cry, he stopped in front of her and lifted her chin.

"But you stay." He said.

"I stay because I don't have anywhere else to go. She mostly just makes me answer the door now, and keep records. She says I'm not good for anything else." She was trying not to look directly into his eyes. She shrugged a little. "I guess it could be worse."

"And you haven't fed recently." His eyes narrowed. She shrugged again and tried to still her trembling.

"She didn't like my dress last night. She said I looked too Puritanical and people wouldn't spend money." The admission sounded like something that she was profoundly embarrassed about.

"I must leave for the moment." He said, brushing past her.

"But I haven't told you-" She began, he heard her trotting after him.

"I will return. You will let me in to the house and you will show me proof of your accusations. If you have nothing you will be very sorry you approached me." LaCroix didn't wait for her response. If he waited any longer he would be late for dinner. He could care less about the servant, but Kathryn and Minerva would question where he was.

* * *

In a way, he was glad that Kathryn developed a slight headache soon after dinner and decided to go to bed early. It saved him from manipulating her into it. Each time he forced her will it became more and more difficult for him to justify it to himself. He arrived at a little after four-thirty. These were the hours in the morning where the world seemed to draw a breath and hold it. One could be assured that the only creatures moving around were either the hunters or the hunted. The street was deserted, the girl had the door open before he knocked. She led him into a small office that looked as though it was furnished from discount stores and garage sales.

"No one ever comes in here, not even her. She says it's far too common for someone of her position." He turned the lock on the door anyway and fought the urge to tell this one about all of Elsbeth's commonalities.

"I know you've had no instruction, but it's considered good manners to introduce yourself before you launch into a conversation."

"Sorry." Her eyes had a hollow look to them and he could tell that she still hadn't fed. "I'm Amanda."

"Not Mandy?" Perhaps the girl wasn't completely feral after all.

"No." She answered quickly. He got the impression that there was more to the story, but this wasn't the moment to hear it.

"I presume that you have proof of the allegation you made earlier?" He sat down in a plastic chair in front of the desk and waited. Amanda took a deep breath and opened a blue personal planner.

"These are all of her personal appointments, hair, nails, anything she does that she doesn't charge for. Her spa appointments are planned weeks in advance, always on the same days and shifting times as the length of the days changes." She slid the book across to him and pointed out a changed appointment. LaCroix's face remained impassive, even though he realized the shift would have put her there at the same time as Kathryn and Minerva. "There was no reason for her to switch the day. She didn't have a client scheduled, she didn't even see anyone during that time."

"How would she have known?" He glanced through the pages, noting the completeness of record, and the unwavering schedule of appointments. He had to go back six months to find another one that was rescheduled, and that one had a note to see the client ledger. Amanda shrugged.

"You know her. She's like a squid with sticky little tentacles everywhere. She probably offered a favor, or blackmailed someone with a previous one." She opened another, larger book that was equally neatly kept. "These are the nights she attended the opera and the ballet. That was strange in itself because she hates those kinds of things. Then when I saw so I figured it couldn't be that that she was itching for a dose of culture."

"And what did you do to confirm that suspicion?" He looked at the journal she offered and noted that not only was the client's name listed, but also any special predilections he might have. He also noted the rather significant price reduction, presumably because they didn't get what they requested. He had known enough prostitutes to know that prices were never reduced out of the milk of human kindness. Amanda smiled slightly.

"I just listened. She thinks of me as invisible most of the time, and I think she forgets about my hearing being better now. I overheard her bragging to Charmaine that you were stupid, and only a man. She said she could wrap any man around her little finger, especially since you started letting a mortal drain your power. She's going to that party tomorrow night. I know she's planning something, but she's been quiet about whatever it is." LaCroix turned the page and noted the long list of names for the following night. He also noted that there was far more than met the eye to this Amanda.

"Are these all of her whores?" He asked, Amanda looked at the list.

"Yes. The house will be closed."

"I don't see any Amanda on this list." She was starting to tremble from hunger. One of greater age or more training might have been able to control it better.

"I'm not going. She doesn't trust me not to embarrass her." He took a silver flask from inside his jacket and held it out to her. She looked at him uncertainly.

"I need you to concentrate on what I'm telling you. If you don't feed you'll collapse and be of no use to me." She took the flask and put her back to him to drink. He knew there wasn't enough in it to quell her hunger, but there was enough to ease the worst of the pain associated with it. He glanced around the dreary little office while she swallowed every last drop she could get from the flask before handing it back to him.

"Thank you." She said quietly. The drawn appearance was still present, but the trembling stopped and her eyes seemed clearer.

"Will these men be returning here?" He tucked the flask away without acknowledging her thanks. She looked at the ledger.

"No, it looks like the women will be dropped off between two and four. Marie and Cecile will be staying at the hotel with their clients, they will be back by ten in the morning it looks like. They're with regulars so they'll probably spend the whole time."

"They aren't vampires then."

"No. There is only one other who isn't, Candace. She'll be coming back with the rest of them though." Throughout this explanation he detected no hint of deception from Amanda, and the more time he spent with her the more he became convinced that with guidance she would go far.

"I am prepared to offer you shelter and guidance in repayment for your information. I will arrange for travel and for you to be met when you arrive. After that I owe you nothing. Is that clear?"

"Yes." She looked as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

LaCroix made arrangements for Amanda's travel in one simple phone call. The rest would be a bit more complex, but that would wait until he had privacy.

"A man called Kellen will be waiting for you at the airport." He wrote down a phone number and her flight information. "Should you encounter any problems with your flight call him at that phone number. And please, feed and feed well before attempting to leave. Should you lose control while you are surrounded by mortals you will be very sorry."

Amanda nodded and checked the hall before opening the door for him. He left quickly and quietly.

"Thank you." She whispered as she let him out. Even vampire ears would not have caught the sound.

"I pay my debts." He whispered back, and disappeared into the darkness.

LaCroix retreated to the relative privacy of a rooftop to make his next phone call. There were very few rules in the community anymore, but the one that had always held fast was that a vampire did not take a mortal that had already been claimed by another. The fact that he claimed Kathryn as his own was a well known fact. It took very little explanation to put the remainder of his plan in motion. There would be casualties, but that couldn't be avoided. The only thing that remained was to keep Kathryn safe until it was all over.

He returned to Minerva's fully expecting to find Kathryn sleeping soundly, but while the covers were pulled back the bed was empty. For a terrifying second he was overtaken by panic, but he clamped down on that emotion before he was consumed by it. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened for her heartbeat, the soft sound led him to the room across the hall. He found her curled up in the windowseat with a quilt around her shoulders, her head resting on the wall, dozing lightly. Seeing her delicate features highlighted by starlight made him reach out, to confirm that she was, real. His light touch on her cheek made her eyelids flutter open. She gripped his hand and smiled up into his eyes.


	45. Remembrance of Things Past

45. Remembrance of Things Past

Kathryn brushed her lips over the side of his hand softly and moved to stand up. He stopped her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing into him as he picked her up and crossed the hall in several long strides. She didn't know where he had been, she didn't care. All that mattered was that he was with her at that moment and hoped he needed her as much as she needed him. She kissed the side of his neck and held on a little tighter as he shivered. He set her lightly on her feet and turned the lock and switched on a small lamp while she tossed the quilt onto the bed. When he turned back to her Kathryn opened her mouth to speak but he laid his finger against her lips. She smiled and remained silent, and leaned into him as he kissed her. The way his tongue stroked hers lightly made Kathryn's knees weaken and left no further doubt in her mind. She moaned softly.

After a delicious eternity he broke the kiss and started to unbutton his jacket, she moved his hand away and opened the last button. Her fingers trailed around his body as she moved behind him and took it from his shoulders. She folded it over the footboard of the bed. She turned back to him and reached up to unfasten the sword-shaped pin he usually wore on his collar. She crossed the room to set it on the dresser and she could feel him watching every move she made. She was glad that she was still wearing the short, light blue nightgown. It was one that he had given her and while it was brief, it still afforded her some protection from his almost predatory gaze. He stroked her blushing cheek lightly with the back of his hand and Kathryn relaxed.

Her fingers worked the buttons of his deep burgundy shirt with a deliberate slowness. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath as her fingers trailed lightly down the front of his chest. Her lips and tongue caressed the hollow of his throat softly before she stepped back and took his left hand. She kissed the inside of his wrist and smiled a little as he groaned softly, she removed the cufflink. Her fingers trailed lightly up his arm, across his chest and down the other side. She nipped the tender skin on the inside of his other wrist and walked away with the jewelery, leaving him breathing deeply.

She moved behind him again and took the garment from his shoulders, tossing it on the loveseat. Kathryn slid her hands up from his waist to his shoulders, lifting his undershirt as she did. He removed it because she was a bit too short to do it comfortably, even on her toes. She could tell from his breathing that he was enjoying receiving her attention as much as she was enjoying giving it to him. Her arms reached around him from behind, her nails trailing lightly over his chest, her lips caressing his back as her fingers made their way to his waist. Kathryn opened his belt before moving in front of him again, her fingers never leaving his skin.

Her teeth grazed his skin and her tongue swept over his nipples lightly. He groaned and held her head still, Kathryn sucked softly until his grip relaxed. His arousal was obvious against her stomach, but Kathryn didn't see any reason to rush. She looked up into his eyes and then looked away as she knelt quietly. She could feel her heart racing and she couldn't maintain his gaze as she took his shoes and socks off. Her head was spinning, less than a minute ago she was full of confidence, now she felt completely subordinate to him and terrified of displeasing him. Her fingers trembled as she opened his pants and took them down. She brushed her lips over the front of his thighs before getting up again, even when she was on her feet she found she couldn't meet his eyes.

Kathryn's fingertips stroked lightly and uncertainly over his waist and lower back, she caught her lower lip between her teeth. He lifted her chin and a look of what she could only call recognition flickered in his eyes. His arms tightened around her and Kathryn found herself relaxing against his chest.

"Aufero vestri induviae." His whisper was so soft she almost missed it, the fact that it wasn't English didn't surprise her. She found that there were times he lapsed into Latin or French. She barely noticed anymore and the only time that she called attention to it was when she didn't understand what he wanted. This time, his meaning was clear.

Kathryn stepped away from the shelter of his body, then slowly lifted the nightgown over her head and put it in his outstretched hand. The longer he looked at her in the golden light of the one small lamp the more nervous she became. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and the room spun around her as she looked away, overwhelmed by the intense familiarity of the moment. Kathryn heard him finish undressing. She felt him move her body, he sat on the bed, she sat between his legs, her legs wrapped around his waist. His soft touches renewed her awareness of her own body.

She had no idea how she sat there looking into his eyes, but with each breath Kathryn took the world seemed to get smaller. By the time his lips touched hers for the first time, nothing existed outside the boundaries of the bed itself. His lips nibbled lightly at hers and she licked lightly at his, her hands stroked over his back and arms and his explored her familiar contours. Her nipples pressed against his chest and her lips traveled over his shoulder. When he growled softly and held her tighter she knew she had found the right spot. His mouth became hungrier and her body responded with an intensity that surprised her.

Her hips rocked, spreading her juices over his shaft and sending little jolts of pleasure through her body. She was so close and she could feel the tension building in his body as well. Waiting any longer seemed like some kind of torture for them both, Kathryn reached between them but he stopped her. His fingers slipped inside her and she muffled a cry against his shoulder. Her hips rocked, his thumb found and teased the slick little nub. She gasped and struggled to hold back her cries as her orgasm carried her.

He slid inside her before she had a chance to recover and she moved with him, her legs tight around his body, pulling him in a deeply as she could. Kathryn couldn't think about concealing her gasps and little cries of pleasure, the world outside of his arms had stopped being important. He drove her over the edge one more time. She didn't feel his teeth scrape over the side of her neck as he pulsed inside her and her muscles contracted, she just knew that with the addition of the slight sting the moment seemed complete somehow. The tension left her body and she melted against him.

* * *

LaCroix lay back against the pillows. Kathryn groaned softly but she settled next to him quickly. He let his hands wander over her back and then down to the swell of her bottom. She arched against him and sighed softly, even that tiny sound had a deeper familiarity to it now. That moment when she got to her knees in front of him the memory that had eluded him from the first night came sharply into focus.

This was Niobe.

He hadn't told Nicholas about her. He hadn't told Jeanette or Fleur or anyone else. The memory was one of those was so treasured and so painful that what was left of his heart had wrapped around it, hiding it from his own consciousness to protect himself from the loss.

Niobe had been a slave in his house. For that alone she wasn't memorable, his household was like any other of that time. At first, she didn't catch his eye, she moved quietly, kept her head down and did her best to stay out of sight when he or his wife were close. There was something about that alone that struck him. When she moved, when she fetched and carried, there was a quiet dignity about her. He began to watch her more closely and the more he watched the more curious he became. The few times he heard her speak the cultured sound of her voice shocked him.

Even then LaCroix was not accustomed to be so interested in a girl. He decided that the way to dispel that uncomfortable curiosity was to have her, and thus convince himself that she was no different than any other ordinary female. When he demanded her compliance she was taken by surprise, and then the emotion left her face and she simply complied, undressing him and then kneeling to remove his sandals. While she was on her knees, her face hidden, he saw the tremor that ran down her spine and something about it touched him. He was far gentler with her than he intended to be at the start, but when it was over she still curled up on her side and began to sob softly. That was when he noticed the fine scars that traced over over back.

"You've been beaten." It surprised him only because he had never seen her be disobedient. His fingers traced one of the scar lightly. She jumped as if his touch burned her. She got up to leave, and he gripped her arm tightly, turning her around. The look of pain on her face flickered for a moment before it was replaced by her carefully cultivated impassive look.

"Yes I was." She said.

"Why?" The reason shouldn't have mattered to him, he knew that.

"Why does it matter?" He was surprised by the flash of anger in her eyes. "I've given you what you wanted, I don't delude myself into thinking that you care about me. I'm just property now." She looked away and he saw her struggling with her emotions.

"Now?" He held her face so that she couldn't avoid his eyes.

"It doesn't-"

"You will answer." He shook her and she fought back tears.

"My father sold me." He relaxed his grip.

"You don't speak like you belong to the filthy masses who usually sell their children."

"I don't. My father is a merchant, I wasn't sold because my family couldn't afford me." A father had the right to sell any of his children that he chose to. Usually it didn't happen in the better classes.

"Then why?" She hesitated, he tightened his grip again.

"I wouldn't marry the man he chose for me." The words came out in a rush.

"What kind of woman refuses to marry?" He asked, his grip relaxing again.

"What kind of woman wants to marry a weak-willed man?" She countered. "I wanted to marry a man who could rule his own household at least." The answer surprised him, he pulled her close and she rested against him awkwardly.

"Why did your father choose such a man?"

"My father owed him a large gambling debt and said he would forgive the debt I married him. He uses his money to get respect because it's all he has. When I refused my father became enraged and sold me to pay the debt."

"And the scars?" There was no good explanation for why he was so curious or why he cared at all. He had never even thought to ask any of the others where they came from.

"Your wife knows my mother, and they are enemies." She was cautiously relaxed against him now and he found that he liked it.

In the following days LaCroix found that his interest in her had only intensified. He couldn't intervene when his wife beat her, but he did make certain that the wounds she was left with were seen to. When he left to go into the field again, he took her and one of the male slaves with him. For those in his position it was not unusual to bring servants and sometimes family along on some campaigns. His wife made it clear from the beginning that she didn't want to go, and when he insisted she had made his life hell.

Niobe was the opposite. She thrived in the field, it was possible that she felt safer from the wrath of his wife, or that she simply enjoyed being left on her own to do what was expected of her. She cooked for him, she listened to him rage when he was angry, she learned his routines and after a relatively short time he had to ask for very little. She happily accommodated his sexual needs, but he wasn't always as selfish as he had been during their first encounter and Niobe returned his passion without using it to manipulate him.

If that was all there was, he would have enjoyed her but the depth of feeling he had would not have developed. Niobe was not only well-spoken, but she had a quick mind and the ability to listen very carefully to what was going on around her, while giving the impression that she understood nothing. More than once she brought him word of plots that were beginning against him from several different sectors.

The first time, he didn't believe her. He beat her, not to the point where he broke her skin, but it left her bruised crying at his feet. He wasn't a fool though, he sent one of his spies to make certain she was lying. Only she wasn't. From that time on she became his eyes and ears and he increased the small wage he paid her.

She attended him at home as well, but he was unable to spend the amount of time he would have liked with her. She had become relaxed with him and rarely forgot her place, but when she did she accepted the punishment he meted out, and went to him for comfort after. It surprised him the first time, but he gave it willingly.

After several months, he left home again and was able to pick up where he left off with Niobe. Most evenings when he returned he found her singing and ready to care for him. It was a novelty in some ways, his wife was seemed upset at having to interrupt herself when he required something of her. Three months into this latest deployment he returned and found her pacing. He stopped and watched her, waiting for her to realize he was there. She didn't. He grasped her arm hard enough to leave bruises and she whimpered.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled her hands trembled as she poured him a cup of wine.

"You have found someone to daydream about?" He asked as she washed his feet. There was never any discussion of exclusivity between them, but he knew she showed interest in no one else.

"No." She responded after a long pause.

"That does not inspire confidence." She looked up at him and refilled his cup before taking the water away.

"I'm-" She started, tears stood out in her eyes. "I'll get your dinner."

"Not yet." He grasped her hand and pulled her into his lap, she curled up to him and started to sob against his shoulder. He rarely saw her cry, he knew that he had hurt her arm but it wasn't enough to bring this about. He held her and stroked her back. "Tell me." He said softly when she had calmed.

"I'm afraid to." She whispered. He lifted her chin.

"Have you done something to embarrass me?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know." She looked away. "I-I'm." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

"You are certain of this?" She couldn't look him in they eye. His thoughts raced, without thinking his hand covered her lower abdomen protectively. She nodded and grasped his hand.

"And the child is someone else's?" She gave a short, derisive laugh.

"If it was I wouldn't be so upset. The answer would be obvious." She squeezed his hand. "Because it is your child I'm at a loss. I can't raise your son as a slave and you can't take him into your house as yours."

He picked her up and laid her on his fur covered couch.

"I-" His mouth came down on hers and he lifted her the hem of her shift. She took it off and allowed him to look more closely at her body. He couldn't help but smile when he noticed the changes that the pregnancy were making in her body. She was very slim, and the rounded bulge in her lower tummy was apparent. He had noticed before, but thought she might have gained a bit of weight. He trailed his fingers over it and Niobe squirmed, he first hint of a smile growing on her lips.

"A son, is it?" He had smiled at her then, and she relaxed.

"Well, I hope it's a boy." She blushed and snuggled close. In that moment LaCroix knew that he would do anything for her and for this child. His other children were a happenstance of marriage and he barely knew them. He saw Divia as a ploy on the part of her mother, and even though she was his favorite it was only because he saw her cruelty and was reminded of himself. This was the child that he wanted and he would tear the Empire down brick by brick to have it. He kissed her again, this time more insistently and she yielded to him as easily and happily as she always did.

"Your dinner!" She jumped up and brought the meal to him. He ate and made sure she ate too, after he was finished of course, but he made certain she had enough. When she returned again he pulled her close. When she was relaxed against him she spoke again.

"We'll be returning home in a month or less. I'll see to it that you have your freedom." She sighed and shook her head.

"That's impossible, even with the generous wage you pay me I can't afford to buy my freedom. Even if I could I have to have a way to support myself. What can a woman do other than prostitute herself? I won't do that." The night was getting chilly and he wrapped one of the furs around her.

"Do you really think that I can lead the greatest army in the world but that I am somehow unable to make arrangements for a woman to live comfortably in freedom?" She lowered her eyes.

"No." She said softly.

"Then you won't speak to me of impossibilities. Understood?" There was an edge in his voice but the way he held her hadn't changed.

"Yes." She said, her head resting against his chest.

They stayed several weeks longer than what he had anticipated and when they returned Niobe's pregnancy was beginning to show. His wife had always seemed sickly during pregnancy, but Niobe glowed and for the most part the only real difference he noticed in her behavior was the fact that she seemed to tire more easily. The trip back drained her and he made arrangements for her to ride in one of the carts that carried his possessions when she needed to. When they returned he freed her and set her up on a small farm with a slave of her own. His wife had questioned him as to where Niobe was, and he told her that she had earned her freedom. She had let the subject drop. That was out of character for her and it bothered him at the time, but after a few weeks of calm in both his households he pushed his doubts from his mind.

His plan was that Niobe would continue to serve him on campaigns as she always had, but as a paid servant. His plan was interrupted when he was called back sooner than expected. Niobe's time was drawing close and he decided that she shouldn't travel. She had protested vehemently but he was unmoved, telling her that the risk to the child was too great.

The last night he spent with her she sat naked between his legs, her back against his chest, his hands stroking her swollen stomach. He could feel the child moving inside her, and he could feel her tension. He spent most of the night reassuring her that he had arranged for a midwife to be with her, and that when he returned he would be able to hold his son. Looking back, he was certain that if Divia had offered him eternity at that moment he would have refused.

That was not how it happened though. When he returned he found the house empty and the fields overgrown. The midwife told him that Niobe died giving birth and that the child never emerged. He believed she was lying, but there was no way to prove it. There was nowhere he could go with his grief, so he channeled it into cruelty, the kind of cruelty that inspired rumors and made everyone keep their distance. That was fine, he wanted no one near him except the two people he couldn't have.

Several months later, while the pain was still fresh, Divia made her offer and he chose to continue as something other than human. He realized later that he hoped that by shedding his humanity he would shed the pain that went along with it.


	46. Making Ready

46. Making Ready

"LUCIEN!" Kathryn was kneeling next to him holding the quilt over her breasts, her eyes filled with tears. Her voice was desperate.

"What's the matter?" He sat up and pulled her into his arms. She trembled as he held her, he began to wonder just how long he was lost in memory. He pulled the quilt away from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders. She held onto him as if he might disappear at any moment.

"You didn't answer." Her voice was quivering. "Your eyes were open and I tried shaking you but you still didn't answer." She started to cry softly. He stroked her back and held her tighter.

"I was just deep in thought, I didn't mean to upset you so." His tone was soothing but she wasn't calming as he thought she should.

"But I couldn't hear your heart beating, I thought you were-" He put his finger over her lips and when she was silent he brushed her tears away.

"You were very upset, weren't you my Kathryn?" He spoke into her ear, his tone quiet but commanding. He felt her start to calm.

"Yes." She answered quietly, she held him a little tighter and took a deep breath. He smiled slightly. He had found that for all of Kathryn's independence there were times she was far more comfortable when he was in control. Most times, like now, he didn't need to use any of his other abilities at all.

"Perhaps you were so upset the sound of your own heart masked mine." He listened and found that her heart was still pounding, but her grip was relaxing. She took a deep, quavering breath.

"Maybe." She admitted. "Seeing you laying there like that with your eyes half open, it just scared me."

"That was not my intention sweet girl." His lips brushed the side of her neck softly and she relaxed.

"I know." She sighed and her grip relaxed. He let her be silent for awhile. When her heart had stopped racing he turned her on her side and spooned behind her, wrapping his body around hers.

"Why were you in the other room?" He whispered.

"A dream woke me up." She said softly, he could feel her body trembling slightly on the edge of complete relaxation. His lips brushed her shoulder lightly. LaCroix was even more certain of the significance of her dreams. It was also clear that she disliked talking about them intensely.

"Was it the same as before?" One hand stroked down over her stomach. She snuggled into him.

"Not quite." Her eyes were closed and she was managing to hold her body still, but he could hear her heart start to beat faster again.

"How was it different?" One hand massaged her breast. Kathryn squirmed next to him.

"It's just a dream." She said softly.

"Just a dream." He repeated. His fingers found her nipple and he squeezed softly until he felt her tense and then relax. "Why didn't you simply go back to sleep?"

"Because, I just," she was searching for the right words. "Felt like sitting in the windowseat." He smiled slightly. She was a bad liar under the best of conditions, but this was even worse than usual. He turned her so that she was facing him.

"Kathryn-"

"You can't protect me from something that's inside my head." Tears were in her eyes again. He held her tightly.

"And you weren't here." Her voice cracked as she continued. "It was so dark in here, so I went downstairs to see if you were there, and you weren't. Then I went in to the windowseat. I used to sit there when I was younger. I didn't always want to wake Grandmother when I had the dream."

He held her until she was calm again, she nuzzled against the side of his neck and LaCroix massaged the back of her neck. She tugged at the quilt, trying to tuck it around herself more fully. He held her still and took the quilt out of her hands.

"Get in bed." Kathryn didn't even hesitate, she got up and settled underneath the covers this time while he turned out the one small lamp. When he returned, she curled up against him and he could hear her heartbeat slow. LaCroix had admitted to himself long ago that he enjoyed the fact that she often challenged him, but his ego also loved the moments when she simply obeyed.

"Grandmother and I are going to get our hair and nails done for tomorrow night." She murmured, on the edge of sleep.

"I'd forgotten about that. What time is your appointment?" He whispered close to her ear.

"Two. We usually leave here at around seven-thirty or eight." He stroked her back and she shivered comfortably.

"Sleep well, dear one." LaCroix was certain his goodnight wish went unheard. He tightened his arms around her and fell asleep as well.

* * *

Kathryn's nervousness grew as the daylight waned. This party always seemed to set her on edge anyway and this year there seemed to be something else in the air. An edge of something she could only call fear, but she couldn't explain WHY she was afraid. Added to that was the fact that Lucien had such high expectations of her. She was nervous that she would make some mistake or disappoint him in some way. She found herself staring at her reflection in the full length mirror in Minerva's dressing room and wondering if she could fabricate a believable illness.

The deep green matte silk gown was even more beautiful than she remembered it. Even though the dress was a very simple style it flattered her. The lightly boned corset she wore created a smooth line down under the fitted bodice that came to just below her waist. The neckline was modest by most standards. It sat on the edges of her shoulders, revealing an expanse of pale skin but no cleavage. The long, fitted sleeves were accentuated by a teardrop-shaped notch at the top of her shoulders. The only adornment on the dress were tiny, clear crystals that clustered thickly around the neckline. They faded as they descended until they disappeared completely by the middle of the bodice and sleeves. It gave the impression of frost. Her hair was up-swept with a few ringlets framing her face. The style suited her face and the style of the dress perfectly. The one flaw was the long red scratch on the side of her neck.

"Grandmother, may I borrow your cameo on the pearl-"

"No." Minerva said quickly.

"But you know I don't have anything that suits this dress." She glanced at herself in the mirror again. She traced the long scratch with one finger.

"Now Kathryn, you worry too much. It's only a party, it's meant to be fun." Minerva sounded nervous. "Come here and help me with the back of this collar. I can't seem to get the hooks to meet correctly."

Minerva always looked well put together no matter what she wore, but this year the pewter colored gown she chose made her look like a queen. The tone on tone beaded bodice ended in an asymmetrical line over her hips. A sash marked the boundary and trailed to just above the hem of the long skirt. Kathryn stood behind her and closed the few remaining hooks while the older woman sat at her dressing table.

"You look beautiful Grandmother."

"You don't think the beading is too much? I know they're not all shiny beads, but I still worry about looking like I'm trying to shame Liberace." Minerva patted her hair, even though it looked perfect.

"Grandmother, you say the same thing every year, and every year you look better than you did the year before." Kathryn laughed softly. Minerva looked up at her in the mirror.

"Was that the door?" She asked.

"I didn't hear-" Minerva was on her feet, she kissed Kathryn's cheek.

"Finish your make-up, and you might want to put on my diamond and pearl earrings." Minerva was out the door before Kathryn could say anything. She sighed, glanced in the mirror, then unlocked the armoire where Minerva kept her jewelery. It took a bit of searching through similar velvet boxes, but she found the earrings her grandmother had been talking about. She arranged the full skirt so that she could sit at the dressing table.

* * *

LaCroix touched Minerva's arm as she rushed past him in the hall. She jumped slightly and put her hand over her heart.

"You scared me." She laughed softly.

"I didn't mean to. You look lovely." He sincerely meant the compliment. Minerva was one of those rare older women that he considered attractive. She had retained her health and vitality, but many women had those things. What drew him was her attitude. She carried herself like a much younger woman, and he found that he had developed a great deal of affection for her over the past few days.

"Thank you. Kathryn looks absolutely stunning." She looked at him for a moment and smiled. "So do you by the way."

Truthfully, LaCroix preferred a more flamboyant style of formal dress. This idea that men must wear black or gray to be properly attired for the evening seemed to him an idea born out of sheer laziness. Nevertheless, one did have to blend in, whatever century one was in. He had added a royal blue silk waistcoat embroidered with fleur de lis designs in the same shade of blue and finished the look with a scrunch tie in the same, unadorned royal shade. Not ordinary perhaps, but not enough to stun and shock those gathered either.

"Thank you." He smiled.

"She'll be coming out soon, if you want privacy you had better-"

"In a moment. If anyone approaches Kathryn this evening, I want you to let me know." Minerva looked surprised.

"You can't really think she's looking for someone else. Kathryn is a lot of things but fickle isn't one of them." Minerva looked hurt.

"That isn't what I'm concerned about." LaCroix wasn't about to tell her the whole story, he didn't have time for that at the moment anyway.

"Well then what-" Minerva stopped when the realization struck her. "She's in danger, isn't she?"

"My community is filled with intrigues Minerva. Some surround me, and Kathryn is unfortunately a part of those." It was as much of an explanation as he was able or willing to give.

"Anyone I don't know, or anyone you haven't met?" She said finally.

"Both. Men and women." He said. Minerva nodded and went downstairs. He could sense her worry, but he had been able to come up with no other alternative to telling her. He entered her room silently and saw Kathryn sitting at the dressing table, putting on a pair of earrings.

For a moment he simply watched her. It was rare for him to see her in such an unguarded state when she was awake. She stood up in a rustle of silk. It was a uniquely feminine sound that, once heard, was unforgettable. He drew a long, slow breath. Kathryn gasped softly when she realized she wasn't alone. She covered the scratch on the side of her neck quickly.

"I didn't expect anyone." She blushed and he heard her heart beating faster. "You look amazing, really."

He took her hand away from the wound and she stood straighter.

"So do you, when you're not all hunched over." He smiled slightly.

"I scratched myself, and Grandmother won't let me borrow any of her necklaces. I don't know why, she always lets me borrow something." He lifted her chin and she let him turn her head.

"So I see. I think it's time that you wore your own jewelery to parties though." He took a long, velvet box from inside his jacket. Kathryn looked up into his eyes and then reached out for it, opening it slowly. Her breath caught and her eyes widened when the light struck the necklace inside. It was a simple style, but he found that on her even the simple could appear wonderfully exotic. He noticed her lip start to quiver as she looked at the six strands of tiny pearls with a hint of golden tone held in orderly rows by spacers set with diamonds. He took the box from her trembling hands and kissed her softly, his lips playing with hers until he felt her body mold to his.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"Your welcome, my Kathryn." He stroked her back softly, taking in the scent of her perfume, her soap and her blood. LaCroix was certain that he would not be able to bear another loss. His lips brushed the side of her neck softly, she sighed and tightened her arms around him when they came to rest over her steady pulse. It was her absolute lack of fear that stopped him. While he regained his control, he simply held her. "Turn around, so I can put it on." He said finally.

She moved out of his embrace somewhat reluctantly and put her back to him. He stood behind her and she watched him in the dressing table mirror. There were pieces of the vampire 'myths' that were true, pieces that were partially true and other pieces that were plainly illogical. Mirrors were one of those illogical pieces. It was one of the things that truly pleased him about Kathryn's books, she had seen that it was plainly ridiculous. He placed the necklace against the smooth column of her neck and fastened it, leaving it sitting against her skin like a collar. Kathryn reached up and touched it lightly.

"It suits you." He whispered against her ear.

"It's so beautiful. It looks old, is it modeled after an antique?" She leaned back against him, his arms slipped around her waist.

"It is an antique." She turned to him nervously.

"What if I lose it?" One hand held the pearls to her throat. "If the clasp breaks-" He kissed her softly and then fixed his eyes on hers.

"I have to trust your ability to plan." She whispered, that sweet blush rising to her cheeks. He nodded with a little smile.

"The jeweler made certain everything was in order." He looked more closely at her earrings. "Those are lovely, but don't you think they're a bit, heavy?" She turned and studied them again.

"With the necklace, yes. I know my pearl studs don't match the color of these though." Kathryn searched quickly through Minerva's jewelery again and found a pair of simple, tiny pearl studs that were close enough in color to be an almost perfect match. "Go on down, I'll be right there. Judge Thayer should be here any minute now."

"Minerva's escort is a judge?" Kathryn nodded.

"They've been in love for years. He's asked Grandmother to marry him several times, but she always says no. Of course it would be a mixed marriage." Kathryn smirked slightly.

"They have different religious views?" He asked.

"Not exactly. He's a Republican, she's a Democrat." LaCroix chuckled softly and kissed her cheek before giving her privacy.


	47. Present and Future Fatherhood

47. Present & Future Fatherhood

Kathryn was staring at the necklace when she heard the doorbell ring. The diamonds caught the light and sparkled along with the crystals on her dress. The pearls seemed to glow softly and she had to tear herself away from the image to join the party. She followed the voices down the stairs to the sitting room.

"There she is." Minerva smiled when she appeared in the door.

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting." She smiled and turned to the slightly pudgy, silver-haired man standing next to Minerva. She stepped into the hug he offered and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "You look as handsome as ever, your Honor."

"And you look more like your mother every time I see you." He chuckled and held her tightly. He stood back and looked at her with a mock serious expression. "And have you been studying."

"A little." She responded. Kathryn tried not to smile.

"Ah ha! I have a chance of winning some of my money back." He was grinning now, his blue eyes sparkled.

"Well, I don't know." Kathryn put her hands behind her back and paced in front of him for a moment. "I didn't say I wanted to play." Lucien was watching curiously.

"Oh now, you know you can't resist a challenge." He was smiling broadly. A smile tugged at Kathryn's lips while she tried to maintain a serious expression.

"Just this once, because I know you enjoy it so much." She smiled and greeted him in Latin.

* * *

LaCroix watched the exchange with interest, and a twinge of jealousy. Logically he knew that she regarded this man as a grandfather, seeing her step happily into the arms of another roused his possessive side though. He suppressed it before it could even flicker across his face. He took the scotch and water the servant offered him and pretended to sip as Kathryn's game started. He licked the flavor of the alcohol from his lips and savored the warm sensation on his tongue. It was one of the cruelties of eternity, taste was intensified but diet was severely limited. It took him years to realize that flavor could be experienced without ingestion.

He watched Kathryn play her little game and wondered how she could decipher what the man was saying. His inflection was positively scandalous. The majority of the verbs were in the wrong tenses and the wrong places in the sentence. Even using the term 'sentence' was a great generosity on his part.

On the other hand, Kathryn impressed him. She spoke with a fluency that was mildly surprising. She listened as he read to her. He knew that she used certain Latin texts to give her historical scenes life, but she rarely spoke the language. He also noticed with a certain degree of pleasure that she had picked up his accents on certain words. After only a few exchanges Robert Thayer was faltering. He managed a couple more garbled statements before he conceded to her. LaCroix laughed along with everyone else, and feigned another sip.

"So, I think you mentioned something about settling your debt?" Kathryn said after she stopped laughing.

"I suppose I did. How much is that now?" He smiled and took a sip of the drink Bridey had set next to him.

"Well, we said you could owe me for awhile now, so all together along with this time, five thousand dollars." She was trying to wear a serious expression, but she couldn't keep the smile out of her eyes. The game had started when the judge found out she was enjoying her Latin class. The betting was more for fun, no money had ever changed hands, but the discussion of payment was as much a part of the game as the speaking itself.

"It does add up, doesn't it? I don't carry that kind of cash around with me, will you take a personal check? I have I.D." He smiled benignly while Minerva and Lucien watched.

"How do I know you're good for it?" She responded, her arms crossed.

"How do you – I'm a federal judge!" He was surprised and Kathryn tried hard not to laugh. She still had the power to surprise him.

"You're right." She nodded seriously.

"That's better." He smiled again.

"Cash only." She said firmly. Minerva and Lucien both started to laugh and he smiled and shook his head.

"Minerva, you've raised an anarchist." He laughed.

"One does one's best." She smiled and slipped her arm through his.

"Maybe we could work something out?" He said to Kathryn.

"Well, I think a dance ought to cover it." She smiled.

"You have a generous woman here Lucien." He said. Before he had a chance to respond they were all surprised to hear the doorbell ring. Kathryn noticed the look that passed between her grandmother and Lucien, but she couldn't say what it was.

"Are you expecting someone, Grandmother?" Kathryn asked feeling a new tension in the room.

"No, but we're all standing here like the barbarians are at the gate." Minerva laughed. "Bridey?"

"It's Mr. Paige, the new one and someone I've never seen." She called.

"Apparently I was wrong, the barbarians ARE at the gate." Minerva took the glass of scotch from Robert's hand and took a long swallow.

"You didn't tell me he was coming!" Kathryn hissed. She had to force herself not to run back upstairs.

"I didn't know." Minerva said. "I thought they were still in Cancun."

"Cozumel." Kathryn said.

"Whatever." Minerva waved her hand in annoyance. "He's here now." Lucien moved behind Kathryn, his hand on her waist, seeming to insure that she would stay put.

LaCroix didn't like this latest development, mostly because it seemed to make Kathryn so nervous. The short, fat man with clumsy features he had seen in Kathryn's photographs walked into the room with a vacant-eyed bleached blond in a pink dress that was too frothy and young for her trailing behind him. Presently slack jawed younger man with a bloated face appeared. As soon as the older man saw Kathryn the look on his face changed.

"Avi?" He breathed. Whatever else LaCroix thought of the man he recognized the unhealed wound in his heart. Minerva opened her mouth to say something but Kathryn put her hand on the older woman's arm. The woman he presumed was Mira seemed uncertain what to do and the strange young man seemed completely disinterested.

"No Daddy."

"Katie? Oh God I'm so sorry." He pulled Kathryn close and she stroked his back.

"I miss her too, every time I look in the mirror." She held him a minute more while the man collected himself. "What are you doing back so soon? You usually don't come home until the middle of the January."

"I heard you were here with your young man so I decided to come back early and meet him for myself." He looked past Kathryn for the first time and LaCroix fixed him with an icy stare. He had been prepared to revise his impressions of the man, photos were often misleading. If anything he was worse in person. Again, a finely made suit that accentuated his worst features, a crooked tie, too much of a cloying aftershave, the whole package suggested a man who was desperately trying to impress his betters, or fool them into thinking that he was one of them.

"Well, Daddy, this is Lucien LaCroix. Lucien, my father, Thomas Paige." He shook the meaty hand he was offered but his attention was focused on Kathryn. Her heart was pounding so loudly he wondered if the others could hear it too. He noticed her hands were shaking.

"Mr. Paige, Kathryn has told me a great deal about you." None if it impressed him, but she had told him a great deal.

"And my stepmother Miranda Paige."

"Call me Mira." She murmured. LaCroix recognized the look of infatuation in her eyes. It was the nature of his kind to be magnetic, especially to those who are easily led. It made feeding easier but introductions to those who were not food could be somewhat awkward.

"Mira." He nodded dismissively.

"And I don't know who your guest is Daddy." She looked at the third member of the party, who was examining the bottom of a figurine as if he were considering buying it.

"Young man," Minerva said. "That piece has occupied that spot since before you were born, I would appreciate it if you leave it alone." He snorted softly, but replaced the figurine.

"This is Alton Masters, your escort for the evening." He smiled at Kathryn and then looked at LaCroix. "You understand, I think Kathryn will be more comfortable with someone of her own circle."

For a moment the room seemed to be occupied by a stunned silence. All the color drained from Kathryn's face and LaCroix moved closer to her. Minerva looked as if she had been hit in the stomach. Judge Thayer recovered first and he cleared his throat.

"I don't think we all need to be here. Alton, Mira, why don't we go have a drink." The judge led the two away. Alton seemed to care less one way or the other, Mira seemed happy to get away from the tense room.

"Daddy, I'm not-" Kathryn started.

"Now Katie, it's all been arranged. You don't want to make a scene." Her father patted the back of Kathryn's hand and LaCroix fought to restrain himself. He felt her confusion quickly giving way to anger. She jerked her hand out of her father's.

"I'm going to this party with Lucien, or I'm staying home." She said firmly. LaCroix could hear the blood rushing through Kathryn's veins. He put his hand on her waist and she stepped back against him.

"Thomas, this is ridiculous. You can't just barge in here and-" Minerva started.

"May I remind you once again Minerva that Katie isn't your daughter." Thomas puffed up the way a small bird will when it's cornered by a cat. To her credit, Minerva didn't back down. "I know what's best for her."

"Excuse me, 'she' is not twelve years old anymore." Kathryn was seething. Her fingers laced with his and LaCroix squeezed reassuringly. "She owns a home, manages her finances, makes good decisions about her career and she even has a college degree."

Thomas chuckled in a patronizing way. It was something that LaCroix himself was given to doing on occasion.

"Well we all know you're smart sweetie, but you don't know anything about life. Do you really think that he'll fit in at Charlotte's party? Besides, your grandmother will be there. What would she say if you walking in with him?" He clucked his tongue and turned to LaCroix. "I don't know what she's told you, but this isn't some kind of rave party. I would hate for you to feel out of place. You understand." He smiled a condescending smile and LaCroix held his impulses and his visible manifestations of his anger in check.

"What I understand is that we have a very simple problem of mathematics." He began, in a similar but far more refined condescending tone. He focused on the man's heartbeat and noticed with a certain degree of satisfaction that the rhythm was uneven. When LaCroix was certain he had the fat lawyer's full attention he continued. "We hold three invitations between us, Minerva's guest is Judge Thayer, presumably you and your wife were invited as Mr and Mrs, and Kathryn has invited me. That leaves your guest without an invitation. We'll leave you to explain to the young man, not that I think he'll see it as a great loss."

Thomas raised a few protests. They were coming out of his mouth but they were all engineered by LaCroix, he followed the script and deflected them before leading Thomas Paige into agreement. Kathryn turned to look at him, but Minerva was already beginning to organize their departure, leading Kathryn out into the hall, talking about finding her a coat.

LaCroix left Thomas Paige to recover in private and went to inform the judge that Minerva had decided it was time to leave.

Lucien had arranged a car for the evening. Minerva was riding with the judge so Minerva's car was available, but Kathryn had never seen him drive and she knew she didn't want to try it dressed as she was and as nervous as she was.

"I'm so sorry." Kathryn said as soon as the car door was closed. She grasped her bag tightly to keep her hands from shaking.

"About what?" He tried to turn her chin to face him, but she resisted at first. He became more insistent and she gave in.

"About all of this. Daddy bringing Allen or whoever he was, the way he talked to you, the fact that my other grandmother is going to be there and you're likely to be interrogated again." She was close to tears now and he held her chin so that she was looking at him.

"Your father is a pompous little toad of a man who wouldn't know good manners if he fell over some. I can only imagine that his mother would be much the same, and none of those things are your fault." He was speaking softly. "But that does not mean that I'll tolerate the same thing from you."

"But I haven't-" Kathryn was shocked that he would say that to her.

"If you enter that room looking defeated, you give them a measure of victory that they haven't earned." His eyes were intense as he spoke to her and Kathryn had to fight not to tremble.

"How can I-"

"You're going to walk in with your head high. You'll smile and laugh and carry on light conversations with those you know and those you're introduced to." His eyes and touch both softened. "And we will dance, and toast the new year." He let her lay her head against his shoulder. Kathryn found that she didn't know how to respond to any of it.

"What if I can't?" She asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Then we'll deal with that if it happens, but I doubt it will." He smiled slightly. "You frightened a policeman off of your porch, I'm certain you can manage some intrusive relatives."


	48. The Arrival

48. The Arrival

Kathryn thought that the Grand Ballroom of the Fairmont Copley Plaza hotel was aptly named. The Louis XIV style room was accented in gold leaf and mirrors. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the high ceiling, their style was reflected in the wall sconces. Even without further adornment the room had a golden glow that might have been warm and welcoming, if it were not for the sheer size of the place. No room that holds a thousand people and has a stage for an orchestra could be considered welcoming. It was simply a beautifully appointed space, much like Charlotte was a beautifully appointed woman. Music floated out into the lobby and Kathryn stopped for a moment before going through the double doors to take a deep breath.

"Kathryn." Charlotte said as they entered in a swirl of colored gowns, black tuxedos and forced laughter. Kathryn's hand tightened a little on Lucien's arm but she smiled at her hostess. "You look more beautiful than you did last year." Kathryn let go and kissed the older woman on both cheeks.

"So do you." She lied. Charlotte Worthington was a lady who had impeccable taste in everything except evening wear. The bright red gown she chose hugged all the wrong places on her ample figure and if that wasn't bad enough the sequined designs that adorned it only called more attention to her flaws. The shape of the Edwardian diamond necklace she wore competed with the neckline of the dress and, while it was stunning, the lacy piece looked wrong against the solid structure of the dress. "Where's Alex?" Charlotte's husband, Alexander, was almost always around to greet the guests, mostly because he got to kiss the ladies.

"Probably chasing some young thing around the dance floor. Who is this?" Charlotte turned to Lucien with a curious smile. "When your father came in he said you were unescorted this evening."

"He must have been mistaken." Kathryn said with a practiced smile, quickly quashing the clever retort that formed on her lips. She made the introductions and tried not to think about how her heart was racing.

"It's a pleasure to have you at our little gathering, Mr. LaCroix." Charlotte turned back to Kathryn. "Your father and stepmother and Minerva and the judge is already here somewhere. You can show your friend where the buffet is, but," She leaned closer to Kathryn and lowered her voice. "I wouldn't indulge too much if I were you. You don't need the extra calories." She patted Kathryn's hand and was on to the next arrivals.

"Was that a remark about your weight?" Lucien asked when they were far enough into the room that they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yes, but she says that to any woman who's slimmer than she is." Kathryn laughed and started scanning the room. She saw Minerva at a table on one side of the room, her father was on the other. She noticed her father's mother there as well. "Friendly grandmother or intrusive grandmother?" She asked.

"Me." He replied. Kathryn smiled as he led her out onto the floor. The music at Charlotte's parties was always strictly ballroom and this was a waltz. Kathryn didn't mind, it was the only kind of dancing she felt comfortable with. Since they had never gone dancing anywhere though, she wondered if Lucien enjoyed it as well. All of those fears were laid to rest within seconds of stepping out on the floor. He lead on the dance floor as easily as he did in any other situation she had ever seen him in. Kathryn relaxed against him.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer." He said. Kathryn felt a little blush rise to her cheeks.

"Well, I could say the same of you." She said, feeling as though she was floating. "You didn't strike me as the dancing type." His eyebrow quivered.

"Dancing is a necessary social skill, much like light conversation or appropriate table manners. Besides, I rather like surprising you." He smiled slightly and Kathryn followed his lead without thinking through the other dancers. She smiled and nodded at the few people she knew, but most people at Charlotte's party were strangers to her.

"Well you do it very well, both dance and surprise me." She laughed. "Not many people learn the former though, and it seems like men don't like to dance even if they know how." She smiled up at him. When they turned again, Kathryn's eye was caught by a voluptuous woman in a sequined silver gown, her long dark hair was worn in an intricate braided bun. For a moment it seemed as though the woman was watching Kathryn too, but with the motion of the dancers she lost sight of her. He was watching her closely when her eyes turned back to his, but he didn't say anything.

"Which side of your family do you usually sit with?" He asked.

"I usually split my time between the two, it keeps the peace." She answered, her eyes back on his.

"Your escort didn't mind all that bouncing around?" He looked surprised.

"The last couple of years, my escorts has been Judge Thayer's clerk, Sam. He's nice but he's more interested in the waiters if you know what I mean." Kathryn laughed softly and he smiled.

"I take it the judge doesn't know?" He said.

"Nope. Neither do his parents. Grandmother knows of course." Kathryn smiled a little.

"Now that doesn't surprise me in the least." His arm tightened around her waist and Kathryn laid her head on his shoulder. "We'll sit on our own." She could tell by the tone in his voice that his mind was made up. She sighed softly, happy to relinquish some of the responsibility for the decision.

* * *

As with mortals, there were very few universal truths about vampires. All were sustained by the same substance, and all were limited to darkness. Aside from that, there were more differences than similarities. They related to mortals differently and therefore hunted differently. Each sire related to his or her children differently, and thus families functioned differently. Each vampire was more comfortable with different abilities, some relied on their mental skills while others shunned those and focused more on physical strengths. All in all, there were more differences between vampires as a group than there were between vampires and mortals. It was one of the strange little tidbits of truth that took centuries to fully realize.

One thing that LaCroix had recognized early on though, was that almost all vampires gravitated to social gatherings. The type of gathering depended on the tastes of the individual, but they all provided access to gossip, a forum for intrigues and ready access to a meal. The latter could have been found anywhere. The first two could be useful, but more often they were simply interesting. LaCroix found that eternity was - in a word - dull. Diversion quickly became more valuable than any other commodity.

So, as he danced with Kathryn it didn't surprise him to see a number of his own kind. Some were Elsbeth's whores, though he hadn't yet caught a glimpse of the woman herself. There were others too, though, and as they moved around the floor he received small gestures of respect from them. LaCroix didn't delude himself into thinking that he was so well-loved, they acknowledged him because it was expected, and safer.

He led Kathryn toward her father as the music changed. She greeted him again and then turned to the imperious looking woman in a severe black dress standing just behind him. She was taller than both Kathryn and her son. It was clear from her posture that she was accustomed to the deference of others, and Kathryn paid her that deference with a light kiss on the cheek. He could hear her heart racing as she made the introductions, but she appeared composed. As soon as introductions were made, Kathryn's father asked her to dance and Mira remembered seeing an old friend from school. She scurried away as well, leaving him alone with Rosalind Paige.

They stood watching each other. Rosalind looked wary and appraising, LaCroix settled on a look of curiosity because he was genuinely curious what Rosalind was going to say. He thought he had a pretty good idea, but recently he had been surprised several times. He wasn't about to take chances.

"Please, sit." She said.

"Ladies first." He smiled slightly. She sat and he followed suit. Again she maintained her silence and he let her. Silence was often far more successful in obtaining information than questions were. To ask questions one had to know something, to remain silent one could know absolutely nothing and still make it look as if all had already been revealed. LaCroix was not about to bow to a technique he used himself, so he watched her.

"My granddaughter means a great deal to me." She said finally.

"She means a great deal to me as well." LaCroix replied.

"Spare me the false sentimentality. You believe that my granddaughter is worth a great deal of money now, and that she'll be worth even more in the future." There weren't many people around and those who were present seemed engrossed in their own conversations. Still, it shocked him that she would do this in such a public setting. He glanced over at Kathryn and noticed that the ones who had acknowledged him had insinuated themselves between her and Elsbeth's whores. He knew that wasn't accidental, he would find out who had organized it later.

"You believe that no one could be interested in Kathryn for any reason other than this supposed fortune?" He took a glass of champagne off of the tray the silent waiter offered. Rosalind's eyes narrowed. She had expected him to protest, since he hadn't, she scrambled for something else to say. He feigned a sip and enjoyed the spectacle.

"My granddaughter is a trial when she's minding her manners and between her mother and Minerva the girl is lucky she has any of those at all." Her voice wasn't quite as composed.

"And yet this abrasive person means a great deal to you." He said.

"She is my-"

"Heir." He finished. He had allowed her to twist long enough. "Allow me to finish this for you, Rosalind. You were attempting to make me feel nervous in front of the matriarch of the family. I would guess that works with your son and I strongly suspect that worked with your husband as well." Her eyes widened and he watched the anger rise from under the collar of the dress to redden her face.

"You are very presumptuous." She said softly. Mortal ears might have missed the comment.

"Just as your son told you, I'm sure." He replied. "Since I seem to be on the right path allow me to continue. After I was suitably intimidated you were going to explain that you were not an unreasonable woman, and you would have offered some sum of money, assuming that I would try to bargain for more. You would have upped that offer until I agreed to leave Kathryn alone. From what my investigator could uncover-"

"You had me investigated?" She had turned a shade of red he had never seen before.

"Didn't you have me investigated?" His eyebrow quivered and her jaw tightened. "As I was saying, my sources tell me you have substantial assets, so does your son."

"This is extortion." She hissed.

"It would be, if I had any intention of taking anything from you." He smiled slightly.

"Everyone has a price, Mr. LaCroix." Her thin lips had turned into a cold little smile.

"Usually I would agree with you." He glanced around and was panicked when he couldn't see Kathryn right away. A couple turned on the dance floor and he saw her chatting with a woman he didn't recognize at first. He was pleasantly surprised to realize it was Corrina. The young man with her looked surprisingly ordinary as well. Judging from her reactions, it seemed Kathryn was pleasantly surprised too. "This situation is unlike any other. You'll excuse me now Rosalind, it was very interesting meeting you."

* * *

Kathryn didn't think she had ever danced quite so much at one of these parties. Lucien seemed positively tireless when it came to dancing, as he was with just about everything else. For an hour he was silent about his conversation with her grandmother, and for that hour she let it rest. Finally, he had found them a table for two in a more secluded corner where the music was a comfortable undertone to conversation and she couldn't take it anymore.

"She offered you money to leave me alone didn't she." Kathryn said, the little quiver of his eyebrow told her that she was right.

"She hinted." He said. "I wasn't about to let her make an offer. You don't seem surprised."

"Let's just say it's a pattern." Kathryn laughed and took a sip of her water. "She tried to pay Mother to leave Daddy alone when they were first dating. And you didn't say how it went."

"Nothing escapes you, does it." He said with a slight smile.

"Well, some things do." She blushed a little. "Corey almost did, did you SEE her? She looks totally different tonight."

"I thought I saw you talking to her. She looked so-"

"Normal?" She finished with a little smile.

"I was thinking more along the lines of sophisticated." He smiled slightly.

"Well whatever you call it, I almost didn't recognize her and I helped her pick out the dress."

"Was that her brother with her?" He sat back and surveyed the room.

"No, but I think he's part of the reason for the change. Apparently she met him at her father's Christmas party. He has a lot of clients and staff at his house, so it isn't really a fun party with friends. Anyway, the guy she was with was at that party. Her father just hired him a few months ago. She made a good impression at the party and wanted to keep it going. She's even stopped calling her parents by their first names." She noticed that he was looking over her shoulder. "Sorry, I guess that was a boring story."

"No. It just seems like we're the object of some interest." He looked at her again.

"Let me guess, three women around my age. One is wearing something with a plunging neckline to show off her graduation implants. Another is wearing some shade of red. The third is wearing some kind of suit or jacket dress." Kathryn was smiling slightly. Lucien looked curious.

"I know there isn't a mirror behind me." He looked genuinely curious.

"They're girls I went to high school with. Miss Silicone is Candace, the Red Girl is Heather, and the Tailored Suit is Isobel. They fulfilled their life's ambition and are now all very properly ensconced in society. All with nothing better to do than gossip, and frankly you seem to have captured the attention of quite a few people." Kathryn smiled coyly. She had known that he was going to draw attention, she wasn't prepared for just how much attention, and how much of it was going to be from people she had never seen before. She was certain she saw the dark-haired woman with several of the women who were were staring, but it had to be coincidence.

"They must have very dull lives." He stood and offered his hand, Kathryn took it and walked with him to the dance floor.

* * *

LaCroix read 'The Prince' for the first time in the mid 1500's and he found a great deal of wisdom in those few words. Even though it came relatively late in his existence he kept a copy close at hand, as if it were an old friend that would provide either comfort or good advice when needed. At this moment though, watching a smiling Kathryn dance with the judge, he knew that being only feared by her would make the rest of his existence unbearable. His musing was cut short when his eye was caught by a small group of his own kind. One of the men joined him along the wall.

"I believe we've met." He had the barest trace of a German accent and his dark blond hair was held in a black silk ribbon at the nape of his neck. LaCroix vaguely recognized him, but couldn't specifically place him. He had met too many over the centuries.

"We have, though you will forgive me for not recalling your name." It was a standard response within the community. Frequently one had to change names as well as cities and asking for an introduction limited awkward moments.

"Barron Schultz, it's been a number of years and our meeting was casual." He took a glass of champagne from one of the circulating servers.

"Your title?" LaCroix was slightly surprised, though his face didn't betray it. There were a number of vampires that had titles, but they were rarely used anymore. People tended to remember a Lord or a Marquis and that made anonymity difficult.

"No, though I think my parents would have liked that. It's Barron with two r's." He said smoothly. It might have been true, it might not have been. It made little difference to LaCroix.

"Lucien LaCroix." He feigned a sip from his own glass.

"A pleasure to meet you again." He bowed his head slightly. To the casual observer, it would have looked like a gesture of agreement. LaCroix took it for what it was, a gesture of respect for an ancient. "And that is your lady, in the green dress?"

"You were here when we entered." He said warily.

"I was. My friends and I are in agreement, even if she were not yours, it would be a shame to see one so beautiful fall into Elsbeth's filthy hands." He laughed softly. Carrying on a conversation in a crowded room and showing all the wrong emotions was a skill that took time to develop. Barron had obviously practiced.

"An interesting sentiment, but what has that to do with me?" LaCroix chuckled softly, his eyes on Kathryn.

"It's merely a request, that you not paint us all with the same brush." He feigned a sip and smiled warmly.

"And?" He returned that smile. "If you know me by reputation you know that my strokes are always very precise. There is something else you want and I don't see the ability to be circumspect as an asset." LaCroix watched Kathryn's father cut in. Her smile changed from warm and easy to forced, but she did maintain her smile.

"Very well. As limited as Elsbeth's abilities to lead are, she still provided some direction for the community. Without her-"

"Without her? Aren't you making a rather large assumption?"

"Not really. You regard the lady as yours, and the lengths you will go to to protect your own are well known." Barron glanced at the small group he had come with.

"Your children?" LaCroix asked. He could tell the group with him were young, one had barely counted her first year of immortality and even though Barron had seen to it that the girl was properly dressed she was obviously out of her element.

"Yes. Not all of them as polished as I would wish." He shot a look at the girl and she straightened her posture. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked away.

"Polish takes time, and a great deal of effort on your part. Where did you find her?" Kathryn was still dancing with her father. From the way she moved it seemed that he had moved on to more pleasant topics of conversation.

"One of the others found her dancing naked in a club." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. "He became enamored, as those who have yet to count a century will. I had intended to insist the association end, but there was something unusually predatory about her." LaCroix watched as the girl sauntered over to a man who appeared to be on his own. He was old enough to be her father, that didn't seem to give her a moment's pause.

"Not to mention the raw boldness that kind seems steeped in." LaCroix said as he observed the girl stroking her new companion's ego in a hypersensual way. "So you simply told the other that you would bring her into the fold?"

"Certainly not." Barron laughed, it sounded almost genuine. "That would have given him illusions of his own power."

"Very wise. Her kind requires discipline from one who doesn't flinch at the idea." LaCroix feigned a sip and recalled how many times Jeanette had cursed him for his unyielding nature. He considered the results worth it though. "It seems you've made a start in the right direction."

"Thank you." The slight incline of his head again.

"The final decision is not mine to make in regard to the city." He said, glad that others had left them relatively alone for a time.

"You have influence." Barron said.

"I do." LaCroix agreed. Lately though, it was more than simple influence. The world had long been divided by vampires, it eased tensions among what are essentially territorial creatures and for centuries it worked well enough. With fewer ancients though, and far more places for his kind to hide, things had become more and more divided and difficult to manage. He didn't mind having his own sphere of influence, but he disliked that things weren't functioning as they should. The music changed to a waltz. "We will discuss this later. The layer between Elsbeth's whores and Kathryn, that was your doing?" LaCroix was fairly certain that it was.

"Convincing some of them to protect a mortal wasn't easy." He said casually.

"Tell me how I can contact you." Barron offered a card and LaCroix slipped it into his pocket. He nodded and went back down to rescue Kathryn from her father.


	49. After the Ball

49. After the Ball

Just after eleven Kathryn was trying to think of an excuse to leave early. It was the first year that she could remember having a decent time at one of these things and that was due entirely to Lucien's presence. For the first time, she didn't feel like every move she made was calculated to appease one side of the family or the other. It was also the first year that she realized how tiring fun could be. She had finally convinced him that she needed a moment when Minerva approached her.

"Come to the Ladies room with me." She took Kathryn's arm.

"Grandmother, I just sat down-" Kathryn got up slowly.

"I know that, I was waiting for you to finish your dance." Minerva smiled at Lucien and tugged on Kathryn's arm. She followed obediently.

The vanity area of the Ladies room was decorated in delicate shades of ivory and rose. Kathryn was mildly surprised that there were only three other women present, and two of those entered with Kathryn and Minerva. One who was in there already had obviously just finished her makeup and she left as they were entering, the other two sat on the opposite side of the room, speaking in quiet tones. Kathryn and Minerva paid no attention to them, although Kathryn did note that she had seen the younger one on an off all evening. It was a little early for a before-midnight make-up touch-up so she and Minerva were able to select chairs next to each other in front of the long mirrors. Minerva patted her hair and dabbed on a bit more lipstick while Kathryn watched in the mirror.

"You didn't want me in here to watch you do your make-up." Kathryn said.

"Aren't women supposed to travel in packs when they go to the restroom?" Minerva asked, smiling at her granddaughter's reflection.

"You liken that tradition to sheep traveling in flocks." Kathryn smiled slightly. Minerva stopped and smiled back.

"That's true, I do." She reached into her bag and pulled out a black velvet box and slid it along the counter to Kathryn. "Since I like being non-traditional I suppose I should go all out."

Kathryn opened the box and found a simple man's gold ring set with a star sapphire. She looked at her grandmother curiously in the mirror.

"I'm going to propose to Robert tonight." A flush of color rose to Minerva's cheeks as she said it.

"Propose?" Kathryn whispered, her eyes were wide. "You mean as in propose marriage?"

"Yes." Minerva smiled.

"But he's asked you to marry him and you've always said no." Kathryn's head was spinning.

"I know, but I felt like you still needed me. Now, you have Lucien and it's time Robert and I made it official." She looked at the younger woman curiously. "You are happy about this aren't you?"

"Of course!" She hugged Minerva. "I've always thought you two should get married, I just never thought that you would ask him. Though now that I think about that I'm not sure why." She laughed.

"I didn't expect to do it myself until just before Christmas." Minerva closed the box and put it back into her bag.

"When are you going to ask him?" Kathryn had moved from shock to excitement.

"Tonight. I've made arrangements for a suite for after the party. You won't mind having the house to yourself, will you?" Kathryn had never seen Minerva so nervous.

"Of course not! But you have to promise to call when he says yes." She smiled.

"You sound more certain than I feel." Minerva laughed.

"Well, you always say I have the family intuition." Kathryn smiled and touched up her lipstick. "Besides, I've always wanted to help plan your wedding."

"Most girls your age are planning their own weddings." Minerva laughed and tried to make a curl behave.

"I never think about that." Kathryn said after a moment of silence. "I can see myself being with Lucien forever, whatever that means. I just never thought of the whole white dress and church thing."

"Being together is all that really matters. I wouldn't go through the fuss again, but the paper is very important to Robert for some reason." Minerva smiled. "I think it's important to his children too."

"You never mention his children." Kathryn fixed her lipstick.

"I've only met them a few times and I get the impression that they see me as some kind of interloper. He has a daughter and two sons, all of them around the age your mother would be now." Minerva began putting things back in her bag. "I suppose if this works out we'll have to bring the families together." She grimaced slightly.

"That should be interesting." Kathryn smiled.

"It will be a little slice of Hell." Minerva got up and Kathryn followed her.

"Honestly Grandmother, I don't know how you maintain such a sunny attitude." Kathryn laughed.

"A lifetime of practice, dearest." She smiled led Kathryn back into the crowd. Others had filtered in and out as the two women had been chatting, but neither paid much attention. They didn't notice that the two they arrived with left immediately after them. All four were gone before the curvaceous woman with masses of dark hair piled on top of her head stepped into the vanity area with a look of calculating consternation on her face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix disliked letting Kathryn out of his sight even more than usual, but he saw they were followed by two of Barron's children and it did afford him an opportunity to check his messages. He found a quiet alcove and turned his phone on. He found a text message from Kellen.

"A arr w/o inc." He looked at the jumble of letters and tried to fit them into words that made sense when read together. After a few minutes he worked out that Amanda had arrived in Chicago without incident. He dialed Kellen's number.

"MacCormack." The hint of an Scottish accent gave his voice a soft, cultured sound.

"I believe I've broken your code." He began without preamble. "Amanda has arrived."

"Code?" He sounded a bit confused. "Oh! Sorry, I get so used to communicating in abbreviations."

"A voicemail will suffice the next time." LaCroix couldn't help but keep the smile that crept into his voice. Kellen was about to mark his one thousandth year and in all that time little gave him as much pleasure as learning the latest technology. It was one of the things that made him valuable to LaCroix, the fact that he had moved around a great deal was something else LaCroix appreciated. He knew just about everyone who was worth knowing and had a phenomenal memory for fine detail. "Would you happen to know anything about Barron Schultz?" Kellen was silent for a moment.

"He's not quite as tall as you are, slight German accent?" He said, finally.

"That's him." LaCroix replied.

"He's been using his title as his first name since having one went out of fashion. He's been involved in no scandals or near scandals that were of his making, there was the incident in Prague, but that was hardly his fault." Kellen said.

"Prague." LaCroix tried to figure out precisely what bell was ringing, but it eluded him. "That sounds vaguely familiar."

"It was a little more than a century ago and I'm certain he doesn't like to talk about it. You'll remember when Josef had his little breakdown." LaCroix did remember. Mental breakdown was not unusual among the younger members of his community, but by the time one reached the stage of ruling a city coping mechanisms were usually well-established. LaCroix had been opposed to Josef's elevation because he didn't believe Josef had the personality to rule, but the vote had not gone his way. When Josef's actions threatened to expose the existence of the community, the threat had to be neutralized and someone had to be put in his place. Being that Prague was not in his corner of the world at the time he had only heard about the details second and third hand.

"I remember hearing about it." He scanned the crowd with more than just his eyes, alert for any sign of Kathryn's return.

"Barron is the one who took the reins if the city before Christian was instated. From what I've heard, he managed well, but Christian called in a number of favors and the rest is history."

"Remarkably accurate for gossip." LaCroix responded. "How was Barron said to take this demotion?" LaCroix remembered now, but he wanted to know what others said about Barron. Whoever was chosen must have some kind of respect to begin with, considering the circumstances.

"He expressed his upset, as anyone would, but beyond that he took it in stride. I know most people were impressed. Some said he wasn't ruthless enough." LaCroix heard him sip something. "About Amanda, she's asking to work in club."

"Doing what?" He was a bit surprised. Work wasn't something that most young ones were eager for.

"She doesn't seem to care. She just feels as though she needs to earn her keep somehow. I told her it was too soon."

"Good. She has better control than you might expect, but I don't trust her yet."

"When will you be returning?" LaCroix saw Kathryn and Minerva re-enter the crowd.

"The night of the fifth. We'll talk further then."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They left the party at a little after three and even though it had truly been a night to remember, Kathryn was ready to go. She remembered getting into the car but the ride back to her grandmother's was a pleasant blur of the motion of the car and Lucien's scent. She stepped out of her shoes in the hall and he helped her off with her coat. Her head spun when he picked her up.

"My shoes." She protested.

"The housekeeper will take care of them." He started up the stairs.

"Bridey is at her sister's until after we leave, but I guess they're not going anywhere until tomorrow." Her arm tightened around his neck.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Freeing a woman's body from constraining layers of clothing was a pleasure that had largely disappeared. LaCroix was not one to let opportunity pass him by, besides, he wanted to give the others time to secure things before his arrival. He had walked into chaos before, but he preferred not to.

"Sit." Kathryn sat on the edge of the bed while he took off his jacket. He knelt and raised her skirt and petticoat and rolled her thigh high stockings down over her slim legs.

"You don't have to-" She still blushed when he undressed her.

"Hush." He took her hand and Kathryn stood again. He turned her so that her back was to him and he unzipped the dress. "There was a time when a young woman of your station would have had a personal maid to help her undress after parties." He pushed the dress down over her shoulders and then over her hips. Kathryn stepped out of it obediently. "Of course she would also have been dressed by the same maid."

"I don't know if I would like that." Kathryn said, her voice sleepy.

"Why not?" He unhooked the waist of the petticoat and she stepped out of that as well. He laid it on top of the dress on the loveseat.

"I think I would feel strange having someone else waiting up just to do what I could easily do for myself." Kathryn held the front of the corset over her breasts. His fingers unlaced the back slowly. He heard her breathing deepen and a small sigh escaped her lips as he eased the restraint on her ribcage. He reached around and started opening the hooks in the front.

"You're very tired, aren't you my Kathryn." His tone had changed only slightly but the little shudder that went through her body told him that she understood that this wasn't a casual question. Her heart began to beat a little faster. He took the corset away and tossed it next to the dress. Kathryn kept her hands over her breasts.

"Yes." Her voice was quiet. He pushed her panties down over her hips and urged her toward the bed. He pulled the covers back and moved behind her to unpin her hair.

"Then you should sleep." He focused on her heartbeat and, tired as she was, she began to fight.

"Not without you." She was starting to shiver. He unclasped the necklace last.

"Kathryn." He stroked her shoulders gently, he could feel her resistance dissolving.

"I sleep better with you near me." She relaxed back against him. LaCroix moved her hair and kissed the side of her neck softly. Kathryn trembled.

"I will be near you." He cradled her carefully, her heartbeat was slowing, her breathing deepening. "You'll sleep deeply, without any bad dreams or frightening memories to wake you." His lips found her tender skin again. This time he couldn't resist making a small wound, Kathryn barely whimpered. Her eyes closed fully while he drew her champagne-sweetened blood. He laid her down against his pillows and covered her with the blankets. He could tell she was sleeping.

"You're going to sleep until I wake you, or until tomorrow evening." His barely audible voice caressed her unconscious. "Either way, you'll wake feeling well-rested and safe." He kissed the shell of her ear, picked up his jacket and left the house silently. Outside, he found Barron and his children waiting. He saw to it that they had their instructions before he left the party so he only nodded in acknowledgment. Barron and the others melted into shadows outside the house. He disliked trusting others with Kathryn's safety, but he didn't feel comfortable leaving her completely alone either. Because of Barron's subtle efforts Elsbeth's best efforts to separate Kathryn from the group of party-goers had been thwarted. The look of pure hatred on her face as she left brought a small smile to LaCroix's lips. No sense in giving her an opening now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix smelled the carnage in the house long before he entered. The stench of blood, rot and fear that permeated the air outside Elsbeth's brothel was far too faint for a human nose to detect. To a vampire though, it was the same kind of sticky miasma that settled over a sun-baked corpse-littered battlefield. He forced the look of disgust off of his face and tried the door. Finding it unlocked he entered.

The smell was worse inside, but he had expected that. The silence that hung over the interior of the house was almost a palpable presence. He left his winter coat, jacket, waistcoat and tie on a clean hall chair and started to walk further into the house. With the new proximity his nose told him that there were several mortals among the recently dispatched.

"FUCKING BASTARDS!!" Elsbeth's curse shattered the silence. He walked more quickly toward the back of the house and found her in a small room. She was bound to a St. Andrew's cross still wearing the dress she had worn to the party. It was the worse for wear, as was her hair. They were alone in the room, as he had ordered.

"That tongue of yours, Elsbeth." He approached her and she strained at the cuffs that were holding her, snarling, her fangs bared. "Though I suppose I shouldn't mistake you for a lady. Nice set-up you have here. Very convenient." He glanced around at various pieces of equipment, most of which he had seen used for torture in various centuries.

"You've made your point, LaCroix." She hissed, straining against the leather straps and ropes that held her.

"My point?" He walked around her slowly, watching her try to turn her head to keep him in view. She fought against the restraints again, making them groan.

"Yes. Your point. Call off your dogs." She whimpered.

"Does this response surprise you?" LaCroix asked. He took out his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves.

"What did I do? She's still alive, isn't she?" She was trying to get her emotions under control. The seductive look she was attempting was marred by the bright amber of her eyes. He pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

"Not for lack of effort on your part, you were simply inept. You rearranged your life specifically so you would cross paths with Kathryn, even after I told you that I expected you to leave her alone." He picked up the long wooden stake that had been left nearby. "Was that such a difficult request?"

"I didn't!" She managed to look very sincere.

"You've no reason to lie now, though I know it's against the nature of whores to tell the truth." He hefted the stake, and saw genuine fear pass over her features. She arched her back and struggled again.

"PLEASE!" He watched her begin to cry. "I'm sorry, I swear I'll do anything you want-"

"It's too late for that, Elsbeth. What I asked of you was simple, and not only did you go out of your way to disobey me, you bragged about it." She looked stunned, he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on hers, the pointed tip of the stake holding her chin still. "Amanda was a most valuable source of information, and she keeps excellent records. You know, keeping your young ones TOO hungry isn't wise."

"That BITCH!" She arched again.

"Yes, well, a lesson learned too late." Before she could respond he pushed the long stake up under her ribcage, through her heart and out her back near her shoulder.

"Please," Her pained whisper reminded him of wind whispering secrets to dry leaves. "I swear I'll leave her alone."

"Of course you will, Elsbeth." She struggled weakly. He leaned close. "Perhaps I'm not so weak after all." With his eyes fixed coldly on hers he twisted the stake, drawing a pained moan from Elsbeth. She struggled for several minutes before the unnatural animation went out of her eyes. He picked up the long, curved blade that had been laid out for him. He moved behind her and severed her head in a single, practiced stroke. He took it as far as the office and tossed it into the room before dressing again.

"Burn it." He said. Before the door closed behind he he could smell the accelerant, he saw the explosion from the safety of the air, though he didn't stop to watch. He found Barron and the others exactly where he left them.

"You have a plan, I presume." LaCroix said to him.

"I do." Barron smiled slightly.

"Then I suggest you implement it. There will be a vote in three months. If you make a success of the transition, you will have my support." LaCroix responded, eager to get back to Kathryn.

"You will not be sorry." Barron bowed slightly again.

LaCroix merely nodded and went back inside, folding away the horrors in his mind, cutting them off from the rest of himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn had kicked the covers off and was curled up in the middle of the bed, shivering. He stroked her hip gently and pulled the covers up over her. She sighed and stretched out again. He showered and then joined her. She snuggled close against him and he tightened his grip.

"You may wake when you wish, my Kathryn." He whispered, a trembling sigh escaped her lips and she arched against him. His hands wandered slowly over her body and even though she was asleep she pressed against him, her lips brushing the front of his chest. For a few minutes, he simply enjoyed the way she felt in his arms, he was starting to drift off when the phone rang and shattered the silence. Kathryn was struggling to wake, so he answered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn heard a phone ring, but the sound seemed very far away. She heard Lucien's voice and she felt him start to rub her shoulder and the world slowly came back.

"Everything's fine." He reassured whoever was on the other end of the line. Kathryn sat up, feeling more awake. "Hold on."

"Is that Grandmother?" She reached for the phone. He nodded.

"What happened?" Minerva asked, Kathryn could tell she was upset.

"Nothing, why?" She asked, trying not to sound too out of it.

"Because this is the fourth time I've called. No one's been answering. Didn't you hear the phone ring?" Minerva was calming down now.

"I'm sorry, I guess we were both sleeping so deeply we didn't hear it." She sat up, the blanket held over her breasts. "Well? What did he say?" She was genuinely excited to know.

"We were thinking of a small ceremony, close family and friends only." Kathryn could picture the smile on her grandmother's face. She was smiling too.

"Congratulations! I knew he would say yes." It was all Kathryn could do to keep still. "You're going to be home tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll give you all the details then. I hope you can get back to sleep now." Minerva sounded a little concerned.

"We'll be alright. Sleep well, or have fun, whichever." Kathryn smiled a little.

"You're positively wicked." Minerva laughed. "Goodnight."

"Night, Grandmother." He took the phone from her and she settled against his chest. "I don't understand why we didn't hear the phone."

"It was a long evening, and I think we both enjoyed more champagne than usual." His hands floated lightly over her back and Kathryn felt herself melting against him.

"True. It was a wonderful evening." Her eyes were closed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dearest." He kissed her forehead gently. "Minerva is alright?

"I forgot to tell you at the party. She proposed to Judge Thayer tonight." Kathryn couldn't help but smile a little when she felt the surprise move through his body.

"I think it'll take me awhile to get used to your family." He chuckled softly.

"Good luck. Grandmother surprised me too." She laughed a little, then kissed the spot over his heart.

"Were you sleeping well?" He asked.

"I don't know." She yawned and let him shift her body so that he could lay behind her. "It was like I was in bubble. There was something outside trying to get in, but I don't know what it was."

"I'm sure it was nothing important." He kissed the shell of her ear softly. At that moment, responding didn't seem important to Kathryn either, his closeness was all that mattered.


	50. Sharing

50. Sharing

Kathryn came down the narrow stairs into the quiet sitting room and started scanning the shelves. They had been back for close to a month and much as she enjoyed her grandmother's company, she was very glad to be back to the insulated quiet of the apartment. She was a little surprised when the door opened, letting in a bit of the sound from the club. She turned quickly.

"I'm sorry." The dark-haired girl hardly looked old enough to work in the club. She did look very nervous though. "I thought Mr. LaCroix might be in here." Kathryn noticed the red and blue file folders she was carrying.

"He's still upstairs, he'll be down in a few minutes." She smiled reassuringly. "Come in and sit down if you like."

"You don't mind?" She seemed surprised.

"Not at all." Kathryn smiled. "I'm Kathryn Paige."

"Amanda Harris." She smiled shyly and shut the door behind herself.

"Oh, you do the bookkeeping, right?" Kathryn sat and Amanda sat at the opposite end of the sofa. Lucien made sure that met everyone who worked at the club, mostly so she would feel comfortable asking for him if she couldn't find him. She had heard about the new girl who took care of the books in the evenings, but she hadn't met her yet.

"Well, I help out." Amanda lowered her eyes a little. "That's kind of why I want to talk to Mr. LaCroix, I know I'm new but these numbers just don't add up. Maybe I'm in the wrong job."

"Well don't blame yourself yet." Kathryn laughed. "Besides, you're new. I can't imagine you would be expected to know everything right from the start."

"Thanks." Amanda smiled a little more. "I hope I didn't interrupt you."

"No." Kathryn sighed a little. "I was looking for some information, but I'm starting to think it isn't here. Course maybe it is and I just need a break, I haven't actually taken time to relax in awhile." She laughed and Amanda's smile widened a little.

"I used to love just going out with friends." Amanda said hesitantly. "Not even really doing anything special, but just being with other people was nice."

"You don't do that now?" Kathryn asked.

"I moved recently." Amanda said, looking away a little. "I haven't really met anyone here yet."

"My best friend moved back home after Christmas and I haven't started looking for new people to spend time with either." Corey's new boyfriend worked out so well she had decided to stay in Boston. They still e-mailed every day and talked on the phone, but it wasn't the same as being able to go to dinner with someone every now and then. "Do you like movies?" Kathryn tried to keep the uncertainty out of her voice.

"Yes." Amanda smiled a little wider, showing dimples for the first time. "Of course I tend to like old movies that no one else wants to see."

"You mean like Tracy and Hepburn kind of old movies?" Kathryn smiled.

"Yes! You like them too?" Amanda looked Kathryn directly in the eye and held her gaze for the first time since she walked into the room.

"I love them." Kathryn said. "This week the Sandeford Theater is showing Desk Set, I was going to go alone, but if you'd like to come along, I'd really enjoy that."

"I'd love to. I have Thursday night off, is that too late?"

"No that's perfect. They always have a six o'clock and nine o'clock showing, I could make the six, but the nine works better for me." Kathryn searched her pockets for a scrap of paper and, finding none, wrote her name and cell number on a sheet of note paper from Lucien's desk.

"Nine works fine for me." Amanda looked as excited as Kathryn felt. "I really appreciate this."

"It'll be fun. That's my cell number, call me if something comes up and we need to change things." Kathryn smiled.

"Thanks." Amanda said. Both women turned when there was a soft squeak on the stairs. Amanda jumped to her feet and Kathryn turned further to see Lucien standing there. Kathryn couldn't miss how nervous Amanda looked, but she smiled and stood on her toes to receive his kiss.

"I thought you were working upstairs." He said, his eyes on Amanda and then turning back to Kathryn. Amanda did her best to fade into the wallpaper.

"I was, and I thought the texts I needed was down here, but I can't seem to find them."

"What were you looking for?" He asked, completely ignoring Amanda's presence.

"Eyewitness accounts of the flagellants." She said.

"Years?" He asked.

"European Black Plague pandemic years, late 1340's, early 1350's." She answered. He thought for a moment.

"The only thing I have down here is in French. There is a volume of collected letters to Pope Clement VI upstairs that's written in Latin. I'm certain there's something in there but it may take a little digging. If you can't find what you need there, I'll help you translate the other information." He said.

"I'll try not to put you to all that trouble." Kathryn smiled. "Fourth case, third shelf?" His library was arranged roughly by time period, though she hadn't figured out how he decided what went upstairs and what went downstairs because both covered the ancients through World War II.

"Most likely fourth shelf." He smiled and stroked her cheek and she inclined her head just enough for her lips to brush over the inside of his wrist.

"Thank you." She smiled up at him. "I'll leave you two alone. Did you want to meet here or the theater, Amanda?"

"H-here." She managed.

"Sounds good to me." Kathryn gave her a reassuring smile and trotted up the stairs, wondering about the effect Lucien had on people.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix leaned back against his wide desk and crossed his arms, his eyes on Amanda.

"She invited me." The girl said in a barely audible whisper.

"And what were you doing here in the first place?" His chilly gaze hadn't shifted.

"I'm having trouble with some of Mr. Pollard's practices." Her eyes were still down and she kept shifting the file folders in her hands.

"Then why don't you go to him?" The idea for her to work with his bookkeeper was originally Kellen's. Clearly she had a talent for record keeping and it was work that would keep her out of the club itself. John Pollard was mortal, but so were several of his employees. Her contact with him was limited and he trusted her control at least that far.

"Because-" She paused. "I think-"

"If you have something to say, then say it." He said sharply.

"I think he's stealing." She said quickly and then recoiled as if the words had stung her lips.

"That's quite an accusation." He stood straighter. She was already walking forward. He took the red folder she offered. Inside he found invoices from a company called Streeter Restaurant Supply that were itemized for cocktail napkins and other incidentals along with their corresponding checks for the given amounts. He was about to demand further explanation when she rushed on.

"I noticed there were two supply companies, but I was only seeing deliveries from one and then when I approximated the amount of usage-"

"Stop." He held up his hand, flipping through her file. "From that you infer that your superior is dishonest?" She took a deep breath and tried to continue at a more reasonable pace.

"No. I infer that because there is no Streeter Supply in this state and that address don't exist." He looked up at her and she looked away. "I did find one in Iowa, so I e-mailed them to check on the status of the account and they had never heard of Something Wicked, or you." She handed him the blue folder. "My e-mails, their responses and a scan of one of their invoices. It's completely different from the ones in the file."

He held up one of the invoices.

"These are copies. Where are the originals?" He kept his voice detached even though he was impressed with her thoroughness.

"Mr. Pollard keeps them locked up and takes the key to the cabinet with him. I made these one day when he went out and left it unlocked."

LaCroix got a set of keys from his desk and found the small keys to the filing cabinets. He pointed toward the hall and she walked ahead of him to the office. It was slightly larger than the one in Elsbeth's brothel and not as cheaply furnished. He noted that the lights were at a comfortable level. She pointed to the second cabinet. He handed her the key and she retrieved two folders. One labeled Streeter and the other labeled C&C Catering Supply from the first cabinet as well as several other relevant documents.

"What do you expect to gain from this?" He asked, some of the chill in his voice replaced by just enough curiosity to dull the edge.

"Nothing." She looked up at him. "I pay my debts too."

LaCroix nodded and took the documents, and her compiled research back to the sitting room so he could investigate in private. It was unlike him to get involved with the financial minutia of any of his enterprises, that's what he paid others like Pollard for. He sat down and began studying the documents.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn walked down the stairs in a black silk nightgown that he had given her. She hadn't chosen it to please him though, it was the first thing that came to hand. She found him sitting in the dim room, his fingers templed in front of his lips, several piles of paper on his wide desk. When he didn't acknowledge her, she moved a little closer.

"Lucien?" She said uncertainly. He turned slowly.

"What's wrong?" He held out his hand and she walked forward, finding herself eager for his touch after the entire evening apart.

"Nothing, but it's six-thirty in the morning. I was a little worried about you." She stroked the back of his hand.

"I suppose I lost track of the time." He pulled her into his lap and Kathryn snuggled close, her legs rested over the arm of the chair. Her lips teasing his for a moment.

"You're upset." She said.

"It's nothing you need to-"

"Please." Kathryn was relaxed against him, but that didn't mean her concern had eased. "You were a million miles away, something's on your mind. I might not be able to fix it, but I can listen." He stroked her thigh softly, as if considering. Her fingers traced light patterns on his scalp.

"Human nature continues to astound me." He sounded more subdued than usual, although that could have been the hour.

"People do strange things." She agreed, her voice was as subdued as his. "A few years ago, my father had a client who'd killed his wife. He just shot her one morning when she was still sleeping and all he would say about it was that she always said the same thing to him every morning, for the last thirty-five years and he just couldn't face it again."

"He was convicted?" He asked.

"Yes and no. Daddy worked out a deal where his client went into a mental hospital. Probably the best thing all around. Maybe he could tell someone there what really happened." Her eyes were closed and he was silent, his fingers stroking up and down over her thigh.

"And if your father's client had stolen from his employer, not a great deal of money, but clumsily enough to be easily noticed by an untrained eye, what would he have said?" Kathryn looked up at him. He had never asked her advice about anything and she carefully considered her response.

"I don't know what my father would say, but I think if this person had been a good employee then the employer might ask him what happened. If he was an asset to his employer and had become desperate about something, maybe he and the employer could work something out. If he wasn't a valuable worker though, the police are always an option." Her voice was quiet, but sincere.

"What if the employer has never been one to look for reasons behind betrayal?" His finger traced her lips and jawline.

"It wouldn't be my place to tell the employer what he should do, but maybe he would be less hurt by the whole thing -"

"He isn't hurt. He's angry." Lucien said quickly.

"Of course he's angry, and he has every right to be." Her eyes were fixed on his. "But if he WAS hurt, it might help if he thought of it as less of a personal betrayal and more an act of desperation, if that is what it was. To know though, he would have to ask." He kissed her softly, his mouth lingering for a delicious moment.

"Let me turn out the lights down here." She could tell it was his way of closing the subject. Kathryn got up but held onto his hand for a moment.

"Do you want a bath?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered. She stood on her toes and kissed him softly before going upstairs to start the water.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix felt Kathryn grip his hand in her sleep. She whimpered softly and his arm tightened around her, even though he was on the edge of sleep himself. He was used to the small sounds she made when she needed comfort. Considering she had given him so much comfort only a short time ago, it was the least he could do for her.

He expected that she would join him in the tub, he had made that desire known often enough that he knew he wouldn't have to repeat himself. He hadn't expected her to undress him, or to bathe him, pleasures he was more accustomed to demanding from the indifferent or the unwilling. She would have done more, but exhaustion was etched in deep circles under her eyes and he decided that he could wait for more until they had both rested. In spite of her protests, he dried her and carried her to bed. She was asleep almost before he pulled her close. His lips feathered over the side of her neck before he let deep sleep overtake him.


	51. The Inevitable

51. The Inevitable

Kathryn and Amanda sat in the dark theater. There were a few other people there, but none of them were sitting nearby. Throughout the short time they had spent together, Amanda had cycled between relaxed and smiling, and nervous and uncertain about whether or not she had done something wrong. Now that they were settled in the theater Amanda looked more relaxed, but there were still unusual things too. When Kathryn offered her popcorn, Amanda leaned forward and closed her eyes as if enjoying the smell of the salty, buttery kernels, but then declined Kathryn's offer. It was strange, but Kathryn put it down to this being a fairly new acquaintance, and Kathryn's own unusual position at the club.

By now, she was used to people walking on eggshells around Lucien. She wasn't sure if he actually liked it, or if he just thought it was necessary to maintaining order. Since she started meeting and interacting a little more with the others who worked for him, she noticed that they treated her with an almost frightened reverence. Kathryn wasn't comfortable with that, and she didn't entirely understand it either. At first, she thought that would change with familiarity. It hadn't though. She didn't really know any of them either. Hopefully this would be a turning point and Amanda would see that she could relax.

Throughout the movie, Kathryn glanced at Amanda from time to time. She could see the tension leaving the other woman's body in degrees. In one of her glances, Kathryn noted the odd way the dim light from the screen glinted off of Amanda's eyes. It reminded her of how Lucien's eyes caught the light sometimes. It was a small thing, but it gnawed at Kathryn until the movie ended.

"Feel like some coffee?" She asked as they walked out of the theater.

"Sure." Amanda sounded surprised and happy that Kathryn would ask.

"There's a great place just down the block." Kathryn and Amanda began to walk down the street.

The Jasper Moon was one of those little places that one only happened upon by accident, and kept a closely guarded secret for fear of spoiling the uniqueness of the place. They walked into a narrow, deep purple room that was crowded with laughing groups and singles lost in their laptops. Kathryn grasped Amanda's arm and darted over to an empty table in the corner. Amanda looked around curiously.

"Where did you find this place?" She asked.

"I was at the movies one night and as I was leaving I saw the sign. I thought it was an interesting name so I stopped in. They have this incredible hazelnut hot chocolate and all of their desserts are positively decadent." Kathryn said. When the waitress appeared she ordered the hot chocolate and a slice of chocolate cake. Amanda got a cup of the hot chocolate, but nothing else.

"So when did you move here?" Kathryn asked. Amanda seemed surprised by the question.

"Just before the new year." She answered. "Have you always lived here?"

"No. I grew up in Boston, but after college I felt like I wanted to put some distance between myself and my family." The waitress returned and Kathryn took a bite of the rich cake. She closed her eyes and savored the first taste. "Want some? I really don't need this whole piece."

"No thanks." Amanda smiled shyly. "It looks really good though." She looked as though she wanted to say something else so Kathryn paused. "Why did you have to leave? I mean, if that's too personal, you don't have to tell me."

"No, it's not too personal." Kathryn smiled. "I didn't really HAVE to leave, but I was published and making a good living. My father didn't really like the idea of me being a writer, and told me so every chance he got. I figured he could tell me I was wasting my life if he wanted, but he was going to have to do it long distance."

"Is he?" Amanda's eyes were wide.

"Pretty much." Kathryn laughed. "I think now he's more unhappy that I'm with Lucien, but he'll learn to deal with it."

"That doesn't-" Amanda paused. "Scare you?"

"My father is a lawyer, not a hitman." Kathryn smiled. "Besides, he loves me. He'll learn to deal with it. What about you? Where did you move from?" Kathryn risked a sip of the steaming hot chocolate.

"Northern New York." Amanda answered.

"I thought I heard a little bit of an accent. Small town or big town?"

"Small town. You know, three churches and one bar." Amanda smiled again, this time it lasted a little longer.

"Ladies Night on Tuesdays, karaoke night on Thursdays?" Kathryn smiled a little. Amanda giggled, her dimples showing themselves again.

"Nickel beer night on Tuesdays, but karaoke was on Thursdays." She answered.

"Did you ever sing?" Kathryn asked, an idea forming in her head. Amanda seemed to catch the drift of Kathryn's question.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't do that again." She shook her head and looked away.

"Why not?"

"Well," She was searching for an answer. "Well, I wouldn't know anyone."

"So? That makes it better." Kathryn took another bite of her cake.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It took the next two hours and a second cup of hot chocolate for Kathryn to convince Amanda to at least go to a karaoke night the following week. Kathryn hadn't been to one herself in quite awhile and she hadn't really been looking to go again, but after spending time with Amanda she realized that it might be just what the shy woman needed. Or one of the things.

Kathryn dropped Amanda off outside her building and drove back to the club. When they went somewhere together, Lucien never let her drive. When she went somewhere on her own though, he was more used to her taking her own vehicle. He'd even made sure she had a place to park in a small courtyard behind the building. Kathryn was pleased by all of that, but the more she drove in at night, the more she noticed the inky darkness that surrounded her as soon as the headlights went off. She looked around and then walked quickly inside, splashing through a puddle of inadequate yellow light from a single bulb over the entry door as she went. He wasn't in his study, but she hadn't really expected him to be. Most Thursday evenings the club was slow so he spent most of his time upstairs reading. He was sitting in his usual place at the end of the sofa, a book laying closed on the seat beside him. Chopin was playing softly.

She stepped out of her shoes before crossing the room to him.

"I thought you would be back earlier." He said.

"We went out for coffee after." She replied and curled up against him. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her close. She smiled when his lips teased over hers.

"Coffee?" A little smile tugged at his lips.

"Hot chocolate." Kathryn laughed softly.

"You had a good evening then?" He sounded slightly surprised.

"Pretty much, Amanda is so shy though. Hopefully next week will help her break through some of that." She kissed his cheek, then got up to change before starting work for the evening.

"Next week?" He followed her.

"Yes. Karaoke night at Charlie's Tavern. She and I are going." Kathryn disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind herself. She knew for a few minutes he wouldn't follow. When she emerged he was standing outside the bathroom door, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at her. Kathryn was familiar with that particular disapproving gesture.

"You think that singing to a room full of drunkards will increase her confidence?" The way he said it made the idea sound perfectly ridiculous.

"I don't know." Kathryn admitted. "But when I mentioned Karaoke she smiled the most she'd smiled all evening."

*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix had tried to subtly convince Kathryn that her plans with Amanda should be canceled, and she deflected each and every one of his attempts. He cursed the fat lawyer for that. While she was gone, he couldn't settle his mind to any particular task. When she returned safely and smiling it was clear that she would be spending more time with Amanda. Once he thought about it, his feelings were mixed.

True, the time was growing near when she would have to start to make connections within the community. It would be easier logistically for him to bring her across if he had the assistance of another. Usually he preferred one with experience, but that was not an absolute necessity. All that was really required was the ability to follow orders.

The few times he saw Amanda after that second outing, he did notice a change in her, though he doubted that a mortal would have noticed. There was a slight lift in her chin, the nervous slouch was gone from her shoulders. He wasn't certain that he wanted to give her association with Kathryn all the credit for that, but the timing was an interesting coincidence.

The third time that Kathryn and Amanda went out together, LaCroix worried less. It was an unusually busy night in the club, and he decided to spend his time downstairs in the study. He doubted he would be called upon for any reason, but being too unavailable was never entirely wise. He'd been immersed in Kathryn's latest installment for about an hour when Kellen found him.

"Am I interrupting?" Kellen hovered in the doorway.

"No." He closed the folder and set the pages aside. "What are you doing here this evening?" Kellen coordinated security at the club. It was a task that required a deft hand in his particular establishment, but even he took a night off.

"When I called Edgar told me the place was busier than usual." Edgar was one of three bartenders, and the only mortal he currently employed in that position. On quiet nights, that usually didn't matter much. "I came in to make sure that Jerry and Brian were alright on their own. I figured as long as I was here I would stop in and see you for a minute."

"A social call?" LaCroix smiled slightly. He doubted it. He had never been one to encourage others to just 'drop by'.

"No. May I?" He gestured to a chair. LaCroix nodded and Kellen sat. "It's about Amanda."

"Kellen-" The name came out in a little growl. Kellen caught the meaning immediately.

"Nothing like that." Kellen waved a hand dismissively. LaCroix gave him credit for retaining his composure. "I should have started that differently. What I mean is that the change in Amanda has been remarkable. She made her first independent kill last night."

"Really?" He sat back in the chair. "I was under the impression that she'd reached that particular milestone already." In the beginning, the young were much like children in many ways. They relied heavily on the guidance of their makers for even the most basic things until they adjusted and gained some control. A first independent kill was usually a first sign that those adjustments were underway.

"Elsbeth never allowed it." Kellen said. "From what Amanda said, it was her practice to control those she made that way. Anyway, I've been encouraging her, but she never had the confidence. Kathryn has had quite an effect."

"You're so certain it's not your influence?" LaCroix smiled slightly.

"I take credit for the rational side of it." Kellen said. "But, I have no special affection for Amanda, and she seems to be one who needs those kinds of connections. Just thought you'd like to know." Kellen got up and wished LaCroix a good night.

LaCroix picked up the pages again, but Kellen's revelation left him too curious to read. He was reasonably certain that Kathryn had no idea what Amanda was. He trusted that Kellen impressed upon the girl that Kathryn was to remain in the dark about that particular fact. He wondered if Kathryn would be mortified to know what her influence made possible.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn drove back to the club, still humming Hazy Shade Of Winter. She and Amanda had done a duet that had gone over very well. Half the crowd was drunk, but that didn't really matter. Amanda was finally coming out of her shell. There were still a few oddities, but everyone had their quirks. Who was she to judge?

She pulled into the small courtyard, glad that a motion activated light was due to be installed the following day. She left the headlights on while she collected her bag, but as soon as she shut them off she thought she saw something move in the newly gathered dark. She stayed where she was, her eyes scanning the darkness for what seemed like ages with her heart pounding in her ears. She turned the headlights on again, but saw nothing in the weak light. Kathryn told herself she was being silly. She got out and started toward the door.

The man stepped out of the darkness into her path, a little smile on his face. Kathryn stopped in her tracks.

"Well well well, we meet again." He took a step forward, she took a step back. There was an air of menace surrounding him. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

"You have me confused with someone else. Please, excuse me." She tried to move past him, but he stepped into her path.

"No, I'm quite sure that I don't." He advanced, making her retreat further into the darkness. "We only met once, and our meeting was very brief. I remember you quite vividly though." Kathryn's head was spinning. Something about the oily charm stirred her memory.

"That night in the club?" Kathryn asked. Shocked he would remember her, much less wait for her like this.

"You DO remember." William Russell smiled a predatory smile.

"But that was months ago!" Bethany was shocked, but she knew that her situation was more desperate now. This man was obviously unbalanced.

"I know, but the sweet scent of your blood lingered in my memory." He stepped forward again, and Kathryn stepped back, her back contacting the rough brick wall. "Besides, I've a little score to settle with your vampire in shining armor."

"My WHAT?" Kathryn stepped to the side, but he followed her.

"Let's not pretend ignorance. Your dearly beloved Lucien took one that was precious to me. I believe you met her in better days, her name was Elsbeth. What could be more fitting than for him to lose the one mortal who thawed his infamously cold heart?" His hand appeared out of nowhere and twisted in her hair, jerking her neck sharply to the side. Kathryn let out a little cry, inside her head though, she was screaming. Her eyes were wide with fear. From this angle, the dim light caught his face. His eyes glowed amber and two sharp fangs were clearly visible in his wide smile. Her fists battered his chest, but he was undeterred. He opened the clasp of the cloak and took it away, then tore the shoulder of her mock turtleneck. "Come now, it's not as though you're a virgin. Seems as though you've been enjoyed quite recently. This won't be that much different, except you'll be either dead or mine at the end, I haven't decided yet."

"Stop it! Let me go!" The memories came flooding back to Kathryn, weakening her voice and her protests. She withdrew into the screaming part of her mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix felt the terrified tug that came through the link as a physical pain, the force of it shocked him. When it increased he tossed the pages aside and went out into the courtyard, certain that if her mind was exerting such force she was close-by. He wasn't prepared for what he saw. Kathryn was struggling and screaming, but she was no match for whoever had her pinned against the wall. All thoughts of maintaining the illusion were gone as he rushed toward them.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn didn't know exactly when the advance stopped. She didn't remember falling to the ground, and once she was there she couldn't feel the cold pavement beneath her. She was too lost in the flood of memories. Every time his teeth broke through her skin, every drop of blood he took – she begged him to take – from the very beginning. The weakness. The wounds. The times she ached to her bones when she woke up. The nights when she felt like something was missing. It washed over her in vivid waves that stole her breath and filled her senses. Kathryn didn't know how long she lay on the pavement, trembling, but the sounds of what was going on around her finally broke through.

She heard snarling, insults, bodies and brick colliding. Finally she pulled herself to her feet and forced herself to look over in the direction of the sounds. Immediately she wished she hadn't. Lucien lifted her attacker off of his feet and shoved him backward onto a pipe that protruded from the side of the building. Blood cascaded down his chest, his feet jerked and danced, Kathryn turned and retched. She stumbled toward the car.

"Kathryn!" He called out to her. In spite of her better judgment, she turned. His face was spattered with blood, his eyes glowed, the weak light caught the elongated teeth. She got in and locked the door behind her, and crawled over to the driver's side. She could feel him inside her head, trying to pull her back.

The force of resistance made her fumble with the keys, but she finally got them into the ignition. The only clear thought in her mind was escape.


	52. Bleak House

52. Bleak House

When she was halfway home, Kathryn's cell phone started to play he Moonlight Sonata. She turned it off and kept driving. Her first idea was to head back toward Boston, but she left her bag and everything else when she ran. The only reason she still had the phone was because she had forgotten it in the first place. She didn't think that she'd make it anyway. Now that the barriers were gone, the weight of it all was oppressive. She tried to shut it out long enough to just get to the house.

She arrived on autopilot, and walked in to a ringing phone. She knew who it was without looking at the caller ID. Her first instinct was to just turn off the ringer and not answer, but something in her wouldn't allow that.

"H-hello?" Her voice trembled.

"Kathryn-" The voice that had given her so much comfort, sounded ragged around the edges.

"Please-"

"You have to listen-" The pain she heard there brought a fresh flood of tears.

"I need-" She bit back a sob. "It's too much. I can't process – everything that's happened."

"Let me help you."

"No!" The word came out in a sob. She took a ragged breath. "I need some time to sort it all out."

"How long?" The words were hollow and empty. The sound made her heart hurt.

"I don't know." Her voice quivered and she sank down against the wall, her head resting against the side of cupboards. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Of course." His voice sounded resigned to the idea that he would never hear from her again. "Are you staying there?"

"Yes." Kathryn answered without thinking. In spite of everything that happened, everything she had seen and remembered, she still trusted him. There was a long pause, and she was fairly certain that she knew what was coming.

"Kathryn, you can't-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone." The thought hadn't even crossed her mind really. "I...I just need to sort through this."

*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix hung up the phone and leaned back into the chair, his eyes closed. He was still spattered with Russell's gore. He could still smell Kathryn's vomit and the utter terror that poured off of her in waves. And it was all his fault. He'd waited too long to bring her across. He'd gotten sloppy with her safety. He'd fallen into complacency, and it had nearly consumed her. It took him a moment to acknowledge the soft sound of the door opening.

"What?" He didn't open his eyes, he didn't need to.

"It's done." Kellen said from the door. "Do you want me to leave her things?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure what she'd left out there. "Then arrange for someone to go to her house. Someone you trust." Kellen was silent.

"You want him to-?"

"Watch." LaCroix said, his voice still flat. "No one gets as far as her front walk, vampire or otherwise. You'll arrange for one of your mortals to do the same during the day. If she leaves, follow her." Kellen didn't move.

"If she knows-" Kellen started carefully. LaCroix opened his eyes and fixed an icy stare on the man in front of him. Kellen fell silent again.

"You presume to lecture me?" The quiet voice nearly froze the air between them.

"Of course not." Kellen said quickly.

"Then you have arrangements to make." Kellen nodded and started out the door. "I expect that someone will be in place within thirty minutes." LaCroix added.

"That may not be-" LaCroix's eyes narrowed, stopping Kellen again. "Thirty minutes." Kellen agreed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn stood in front of the full-length mirror wearing only a towel. She'd avoided the mirror when she first got onto the shower, but by the time the water ran cold she knew she couldn't avoid it forever. When she dressed that evening, she had seen a small bruise at the point where her neck joined her shoulder. At the time, she assumed it was simply a passion mark. Now she knew that's what Lucien wanted her to think. She moved her wet hair aside and saw four small punctures. One set was nearly healed, the others were freshly scabbed.

She remembered getting them vividly now. That evening she woke up to his fingers pressing inside her. It was one of her favorite ways to wake up and the memory brought a little smile to her lips now. In the moment before his release, he'd bitten down on her shoulder. She remembered the pain, but it wasn't nearly as bad as she would have expected. She ran a finger over the marks tentatively, expecting some residual ache. She found none.

The shock had worn off, but the confusion had deepened. She left the towel in the basket and curled up in bed. She couldn't even put a name to all her feelings. Part of her was mad as hell at him for not only doing it, but hiding it from her. On the other hand she had no idea when he should have told her, or if she would have believed him if he had. She was at least as scared as she was angry, but even that had another side to it. Obviously, he could have killed her any time he wanted, but he hadn't. She was hurt that he had lied. She missed him. When she thought of him actually taking her blood she knew she should be horrified, but she couldn't quite manage that. The feelings of comfort and connection came rushing back. She knew that those had been real, although she didn't know how she knew.

Kathryn doubted she would sleep, but she closed her eyes. Maybe by the time the next evening came she could understand at least some of her feelings.

*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix only left the apartment to feed. In his darkest hours, feeding served two purposes. One was obvious; blood sustained his life. The other was more emotional; he could try and make someone else hurt as much as he did.

He had no one else to blame this time. No one insisted that Kathryn would be destroyed by association with him. No one had slaughtered her as he believed Niobe was slaughtered. She had simply seen him as he really was, and it had been too much.

Staying in the apartment had its own perils. Her scent was everywhere. Her perfume teased his memory. The scent of her hair on her pillows reminded him that she should have been there. Walking by her clothes brought images of her in them. All of it gave the impression that she would simply walk back in as if she had only spent the evening out. He couldn't allow himself to believe that would happen. Experience had taught him that hope was the one thing he couldn't afford. Letting go of it seemed like more than he could bear this time. Especially since he knew what the ultimate ending would have to be.

Besides, deep down, he still knew she was his.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn flipped through the stack of pages in her hands. She didn't know that she had even kept them, much less what drew her into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. True, she had been wandering around the house for the last few days like a lost ghost. She'd been opening drawers, looking through closets and searching through boxes in the basement. She had no idea what she was hoping to find, but it had been almost an obsession. She told herself that with her hands busy her mind would have time to sort through everything. In a way, that was true.

She flipped through the pages. Professor Howlett's notes were still there in his boldly flowing style and green pen. It was a translation of a description of a bloody uprising in Gaul and centered on the actions of a Lucius Terentius, who, at that point, had not yet become a general. His actions there would lead to the Emperor Vespasian making that elevation.

Looking at it again, she clearly remembered writing it. She'd become fascinated with the man at the center of it. Rereading certain segments of the text even after the assignment was turned in and graded. There was just something so REAL about him. She told herself that it was how the historian had described him, bringing him to life even after so much time had passed. Her roommate teased her that she was in love with a guy who was a pile of dust somewhere. Now, rereading her own work, something about it nagged at her.

Logically, she didn't think it was possible, but logic had been pretty much thrown out the window in the past few days. She found a large envelope and wrote a quick note. She clipped the note to the cover-page and went downstairs.

Kathryn knew she was being watched. He hadn't come right out and told her, but he had told her that she needn't worry about a reappearance of someone else like William Russell. She hoped that was the only reason. She pulled a fleece jacket out of the closet, and stepped into a pair of old sneakers. The men in the car looked positively shocked when she trotted across the street, directly to them. He looked at his partner, unsure what to do when Kathryn tapped on the window and then took several steps back. The second man shrugged.

"Miss Paige?" He asked. Her mouth went dry and she found she had no idea how to say it.

"You're-" She started again. "Lucien sent you here."

"Yes." He said, waiting to find out what she was going to say.

"Can you take this to him?" She stepped a little closer and held out the envelope. "Please?" The two men looked at each other.

"Miss Paige, if you have something to tell him, it would be better if you spoke to him in person."

"I can't. Please, this isn't something I can explain, he has to see it." Her heart was starting to pound. Neither of them moved. "It's not a goodbye letter or anything like that." The man nearest her took the envelope.

"We can't both leave." He said. The his partner got out of the car. Kathryn took several steps back. He walked around the car slowly.

"Miss Paige, if I so much as touch your sleeve he'll have my head." She could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't exaggerating. She sighed.

"I'm sorry." She said. He nodded. "Thank you." She said to the one still in the car.

"You're welcome." He started the car and pulled away. Kathryn trotted back inside.

*~*~*~*~*~*

She was still surprising him. He wanted her to be aware that Kellen's men were present. LaCroix never thought for one minute that she would approach one of them, let alone request that he deliver something. The very idea made him smile a little. It was an expression that had become unfamiliar in the past few nights.

The note was cryptic:

"I know you've seen this, you probably have a copy of it somewhere. I need to know....well, either it will make sense and you'll know what I need to know, or it won't and I'll still know.

Yours,

Kathryn"

She was right, he had a copy of it at the retreat. He hadn't glanced at it in centuries though. Why should he when his memory of that campaign was clearer than the author's vision of it? It was, in the scheme of things, a small part of a relatively minor history by someone whose name was lost to time. He wondered how she had come across it. The translation wasn't nearly as accurate as she could produce now, and that was duly noted by her teacher. It was clear from the comments though that whoever this instructor was, he had some affection for Kathryn. He noted that the professor had noticed Kathryn's affection for her subject as well.

He shouldn't have been surprised. After everything, he should have been more surprised that she hadn't looked at him one evening and said "You know who you remind me of?". The little smile touched his lips again. Still, how would he tell her? She'd been coping reasonably well with the rest of it, considering the trauma that surrounded her understanding. He could tell that much from their brief phone conversations. He dialed her number.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded uncertain.

"You had difficulty with verb tenses in the beginning, didn't you?" He said. The sort of half-laugh was the most relaxed she had sounded in days.

"I still do sometimes." She admitted. He heard her sit and take a deep breath. "I'm imagining things, aren't I?" The question sounded almost hopeful.

"No, you're not." The line was silent for so long that he wondered if she was still there. Finally, he heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"How?"

"Survival of the fittest, my Kathryn." The silence was back.

"Can I call you tomorrow night?" She asked.

"How much longer will you be gone?" He had avoided the subject, but his patience was not eternal.

"No more than three days." She said. He had no idea where she got the figure form. He didn't allow himself to dwell on it. There was a limit, and he would see to it that it wasn't pushed back.

"Then we'll talk tomorrow." She said goodbye and hung up. He sat back, his eyes closed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

On the second day, Kathryn looked around the house and knew she had to go back. It was the same house she had lived in before she knew him. It held the objects that were meaningful to her, reflected her tastes, was arranged to suit the way she lived, but it was no longer home. All the spirit was gone. That was back at the apartment. She didn't know what going back would mean, but she wasn't able to stay away any longer.

To say she missed him was inaccurate. She ached for him. For his voice. For his scent. For the way he would hold her while she was falling asleep. In honest moments, she realized she even missed the feeling of him taking her blood. Dwelling on that still made her shiver, but at least now she could admit it to herself.

Something in her wouldn't just allow her to call him and tell him that she was on her way back. She knew if she left, his sentries would call him before she even got to the end of the street, and follow her the whole way back, probably reporting what songs were playing on the radio. She sat a little ways back from the window, watching the car. She knew they didn't usually leave until their replacements were coming down the street. She thought about distracting them somehow, but that didn't seem like it would work.

The sun was nearly down when she saw Mr. Kennely driving down the street in a car that looked remarkably like the one usually used by her watchers. The other pair must have been confused too, because they pulled away. Kathryn seized the opportunity, she figured she had ten minutes at the most and she wasn't going to waste a single one. She grabbed her keys and was out the door before she could second guess herself.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"SHE WHAT?" LaCroix roared. Kellen cringed.

"Apparently there was some sort of mix-up with the change-over." Kellen explained without looking him in the eye. "She must have left then, because when the night shift arrived there were no signs of life in the house."

"She's a mortal woman! Twenty years younger than either of the men you assigned to watch her during the day, and you expect me to believe that she just 'slipped away'?" LaCroix advanced toward the other man.

"She must have." There was a tremor in Kellen's voice. "Because another of my men saw her when he was driving here half an hour ago. He mentioned it because he didn't see anyone following her and that struck him as odd, given the situation."

"Find her. I don't care how you do it." LaCroix walked out into the club. He knew Kathryn hated the idea of being watched over. She'd angrily told him more than once that she was not a child. He had thought, with all she had seen, she would understand the need for caution. He would feed and find Kellen again when his head was a bit clearer.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn drove around until nearly midnight before she drove back toward the club. She'd called her grandmother in that time, just because she usually did every few days. Part of her worried that it would be the last time she got to talk Minerva. She knew her grandmother picked up on the stress in her voice, but she hadn't said anything about it. Kathryn found herself wondering if Lucien had already called Minerva at some point. The rest of the time, she stuck to places she had never been before. If she was going to look for someone, she would look in places they usually go.

As soon as she drove in to the courtyard, several lights came on banishing all but the smallest shadows. Kathryn couldn't help but think that if those lights had been in place the other night, she would still be blissfully ignorant. She wasn't sure if that sounded good or not. Kathryn let herself in quietly, not certain if he would be in is study or not. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or not when he wasn't. She went upstairs, but didn't find him there either. She couldn't face going into the club to find him, certainly not dressed in old, mismatched sweats. She went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the tub.

*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix spent most of the night in smoldering anger. Kellen had sent a number of men out to find her, all had failed. He thought he caught her scent a little more strongly in the office, but he dismissed it as worry for her and wishful thinking. When he climbed the stairs he caught the scent again, this time mingled with her bath gel. He stopped and listened. At first he heard nothing, then he found the sound of her heartbeat. He moved silently toward the bedroom and found her asleep on the bed.

He lingered in the door, just watching. He could see that she was wearing one of his shirts, a throw covered her legs. The shirt was an affectation of hers. He had noticed it meant she was upset. Right now though, she was sound asleep. He walked downstairs silently and told Kellen to stop looking. He went back upstairs and watched from the shadows in the hall again. If she were there and sleeping, he was fairly certain that she meant to stay. Hopefully, she knew what that would mean.

When her brow began to knit, LaCroix stepped forward. The sharp whimper that followed spurred him to action. He sat behind her and lifted her trembling body into his arms.

Even though she was still sleeping, she held on as if he might evaporate.


End file.
